


Over the Sky

by prophetsdream



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Adopted Children, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cancer, Cheating, Depression, Divorce, Eventual Happy Ending, Harry has anger issues, I'm Sorry, Infidelity, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent-Child Relationship, Sad, Tags May Change, They have a child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:48:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 56,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25567723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prophetsdream/pseuds/prophetsdream
Summary: "Lou—Louis," he began, voice soft and unfamiliar to Louis' ears after not speaking to him or hearing him talk for nearly a week. "You and I both know that things haven't been working for quite some time and, well, this is for the best."--Harry asks for a divorce. Louis knows the reason why, but he doesn't get to confront Harry because life gets in the way. Things happen for a reason, he figures.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 195
Kudos: 266





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> i am so sorry for this story. it's been in the making since 2015. i've gone through several variations of this with both louis and harry as main characters and my own original characters, but i kept rewriting it with louis and harry. 
> 
> this is inspired by a short story i read years ago. i just decided to expand it and make it my own. i would give credit if i could find it, but i haven't been bothered to search for it since i first read it nearly ten years ago. the original short story had a sad ending, but i can't do those, so i've made a happy ending. i hope you give it a chance or stick around long enough for me to see it to the end.
> 
> i'll update as quickly as i can. i have 16 chapters already written and ready to go.
> 
> not brit picked.
> 
> i don't use a beta. i edit for myself, so all errors are my own.

Louis wasn't impressed.

All it took was one look at his husband sitting rigid at the kitchen table for him to know that something was up. A quick glance at the folder partially hidden under his folded arms was all he needed to see. That manila folder that he'd seen in sad break-up flicks; the folder that held papers that would make huge life decisions for him without consulting him first — papers that would tell how much he would get from their split estate, tell him when he had to move out of Harry's house. A stack of papers Harry had his lawyer write up that would tell him how to live his life as a divorcee. Louis was expecting it.

Louis wished he could say that he was dreading the day Harry presented him with a stack of divorce papers, but he couldn't. That would be lying and Louis wasn't a liar. 

Instead, he could tell you all about the worst day of his life — the day he realized that Harry was no longer in love with him. Louis could describe with great detail the moment Harry looked at him with a frown and his shoulders sagging, his expression reserved and closed off. It felt like Louis was looking at a stranger then; there was a vast difference in the man before him and the man he married. Everything about that moment was etched into Louis' mind like a hot poker on skin.

Louis Tomlinson was no fool. He knew what was going on and he knew what was headed in his direction. He knew he'd done something for Harry to want nothing to do with him, but he couldn't figure out what that something was. Louis knew what was going on, but without any concrete evidence he had no ground to stand on.

It took him a while to realize that he hadn't done anything wrong; that it wasn't his fault Harry had changed. Once he came to terms with himself he was finally able to admit what he didn't want to believe.

Harry was cheating on him.

Louis thought long and hard about the first night where Harry came home late from work with the sweet smell of perfume lingering on his clothes. The smell of cheap beer, a dingy bar and dying flowers wafted through the air that night and Louis almost lost it. He was seconds away from demanding answers, but he didn't. That never happened.

He kept his mouth shut and pretended he hadn't noticed anything different. He didn't mention how Harry's hair looked like it had been quickly styled in a car mirror or how there was a faint hickey on the side of his throat that he thought was hidden. No, Louis didn't say anything. He didn't bring any of it up because it was too late and he didn't want to deal with it when he had to get up before the sun the following morning. He also didn't want to risk his questions being turned into a fight that would, without a doubt, wake up their daughter. She didn't need to deal with their mess.

Louis had only been in the early stages of his accusations with that one event, but it was during the night of their tenth anniversary that he knew something was off when Harry couldn't get aroused when they attempted to spend the night together. Harry said it was because he was tired. Louis knew better. He knew about Harry's mistress — a woman named Kendall, he'd come to learn. Louis' body no longer did it for Harry and, while that realization hurt him in ways he didn't want to admit, he still kept his mouth shut.

Thoughts of this woman ran through his mind at all times. This woman, Kendall, that he would later refer to as mcskank in his head. She'd been introduced into their marriage and the fact that he knew next to nothing about her other than her name bothered him. Louis thought he had a right to know who he was indirectly in a relationship with. Harry wouldn't ever tell him, though.

However, one early morning when they were both home, Louis asked Harry about her when he saw her name pop up on his phone. Harry only told him the bare minimum — she was his assistant, she'd been with the company a little over six months, and she was the best assistant he'd ever had. 

Of course.

Louis knew that he had let things go on for too long when they reached the third month. It had taken their daughter asking why her Daddy wasn't there for breakfast one morning for him to realize he really needed to confront Harry. Louis was tired of late night arrivals and the half assed stories Harry would offer him about being needed in the office. These excuses worked once upon a time, but Harry was using them so often that it was like he wasn't even trying anymore.

Louis was finally ready to address Harry after compiling enough evidence against him. He was prepared and waiting to strike. He just needed to find the right time.

Only, that time would never come. On the night Louis decided to talk to Harry, things took a turn. He was waiting for Harry to come home so he could begin his interrogation; he was fully prepared one minute and the next he was sick and collapsing onto his bedroom floor — their daughter walking in to find him, panic in her tiny voice when he came to and his confusion quickly becoming friends with the exhaustion in his bones.

He asked her to keep the incident between them until he could get to a doctor to find out what was wrong. She agreed, because at the age of seven, she knew better than to run to her Daddy when her Papa said he would handle it. Louis had no desire to tell him even after he saw a doctor because Harry probably wouldn't care anyway.

Louis attended his first of appointments solo, dodging questions about why his husband wasn't with him. It was only after he was informed that they would have to run a series of tests, MRIs, CT scans and a biopsy on tissue from one of his lymph nodes that he began to bring Zayn, his best and longest kept friend. Zayn was the only one who knew that Harry was cheating. He was also that one person Louis knew he could count on for advice and to keep his mouth shut, even when forced to be in the same room as Harry. Sometimes, when Harry was late, Louis would find himself wondering why he never gave Zayn a chance. He reckoned that maybe things would be different and he'd be happy.

When Louis found out it was cancer, he realized he couldn't do it alone anymore. He couldn't continue to things by himself. It was almost immediately after his diagnosis that he spent hours crying on Zayn's shoulder and wondering where he went wrong in life for everything to pile up at once. Louis cried over not knowing if he was going to live or die (because even finding the cancer in stage two didn't necessarily mean that he would survive) and he cried over not knowing if he'd get to see his daughter grow up. More so, he was angry that he wasn't sure if he would ever get to confront Harry.

Louis put on a brave face when Harry asked about the last appointment he had. He told him nothing was wrong — his blood pressure had spiked and they were restricting his diet so that it didn't happen again. Louis couldn't bring himself to tell Harry the truth no matter how much he deserved to know. He couldn't find it in himself to share his secrets.

Things continued on as they had been until Harry's late nights turned into overnights, leaving their bed cold and Elise, their daughter, asking for him. Louis hated lying to her. He hated telling her that Harry was working late so that they could have everything she would ever need or want; that Daddy was working late to provide the food they ate and the roof over their heads. He could've easily told her that Harry was in the process of leaving him, but he couldn't do that to her. Harry was the greatest thing she'd ever known and he didn't want to be the reason she stopped thinking of him as such.

"Papa, where's Daddy? Is Daddy coming home tonight? Can you tell Daddy I love him? I might be sleep when he gets home! Papa, can you read to me? The story Daddy started last week, please. Papa, can you ask Daddy to come home?"

Louis' heart was breaking. With each cry, plea and question from Elise he could feel his heart shatter, along with his soul, onto the floor. Picking up the pieces was tiring.

He continued to work — his drama classes keeping him distracted enough — but when that became too much for him to handle with the way his cancer was advancing, he had to ask for a leave of absence. The school understood and wished him luck and a full recovery, telling him that he would always have a job waiting for him when he was ready to return. 

Again, he told Harry nothing. It wasn't as if he'd notice anyway. Louis was still bringing money in thanks to his paid leave and his salary, which he continued to receive as he didn't get paid during summer vacation.

He shook his head, bringing his attention back to the present and out of the past few months. Louis put on a shocked expression and thanked every deity there was that he was a good actor, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to fool Harry when he slid the folder to the center of the table. Louis watched him, blue eyes meeting green and, if only for a short moment, Louis could see a flash of regret on Harry's face before he spoke.

"Lou—Louis," he began, voice soft and unfamiliar to Louis' ears after not speaking to him or hearing him talk for nearly a week. "You and I both know that things haven't been working for quite some time and, well, this is for the best."

Louis could only nod in response as he reached across the table and placed a hand atop the folder, dragging it back towards himself. He didn't dare open it because that would make it more real. He wasn't as prepared as he thought he was as he held back the sob that was trying to force its way up his throat.

"Can I read it over before signing it?" Louis asked, pulling the folder off the table and holding it with both hands against his chest.

"Okay." Harry agreed before standing up to excuse himself and leave the room.

Louis sat in the deafening silence alone, breathing heavily and hoping that it was all a dream.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heart to heart between parent and child.
> 
> Louis tries to talk to Harry, but he's reluctant to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want to say that i appreciate all the kudos, subs and bookmarks i've gotten so far. i wasn't sure if i was ever going to post this because i really don't think it's worth reading or that i'll ever be completely satisfied with. regardless, thank you.
> 
> harry is an asshole for a good part of this (chapter and story), so if that isn't your thing then i apologize.
> 
> i want to get this out there now before anyone decides that louis is acting weird and focusing more on certain things and not other things. i mention this in a few chapters, i just don't remember when... but like, the treatments mess up your brain. my sister in law had cancer this past year and she had/has what they call cancer brain. or is chemo brain? i don't remember, but it takes a toll on a person mentally. that is all.
> 
> enjoy.

It'd been a week since Harry presented the papers and he still hadn't looked at them. They remained sitting in the drawer of his bedside table, purposely hidden under random objects he kept in there. Louis avoided said drawer because he knew that if he put too much thought into it then he would want to open the folder to read its contents. He had little intention of doing so. At least, not any time soon.

Louis, being the petty person that he'd become, wanted Harry to suffer through not knowing whether or not he would agree to the terms written out for him. He wanted Harry to think that this was a difficult decision to make. It was, but it wasn't.

"Papa," Elise's small voice came from the door, grabbing his attention.   
  
"Yeah, baby?" Louis smiled, motioning for her to join him where he sat against the headboard of his bed watching an overly dramatic talk show.  
  
"Has you talked to Daddy today?" she asked.   
  
"I haven't," he answered truthfully. "He's still at work, but I'm sure we'll see him later tonight. Why? What's up?"   
  
She scooted closer to him, her tiny hands wringing the fabric of the black duvet covering him. Louis pulled the duvet back and wrapped an arm around her as she settled against his side. He placed a kiss to the top of her head. No matter what happened between him and Harry, Louis didn't want to lose this. He didn't want to lose her. She was all he had and the only reason he had to keep living.   
  
"My winter concert is Friday," she answered after a moment of silence. "I have a solo, Papa! Did I tell you that?"  
  
"No, baby, you didn't."  
  
"Well, I do!" she exclaimed, beaming up at him.   
  
"That's fantastic!" he smiled down at her.   
  
"It is! I get to sing part of Jingle Bell Rock by myself. I'm so excited!"   
  
"Me too!"   
  
After her little bought of excitement wore off, Elise continued to tell him about the concert — her placement on stage, what songs her grade was singing and the songs that all the grades were singing together. She told him about how her music teacher said that she was a natural when it came to singing and that they should be very proud of her. Louis was, of course. He didn't think he could be more proud than he already was.   
  
"Papa." She started after a few moments of silence, and once she'd run out of things to talk about.   
  
"Yes?" "Do you think Daddy will be there?" she asked, looking up at him with wide brown eyes.   
  
"I don't know, baby. Have you told him about it yet?"   
  
"No, he's never home when I'm awake." Elise said, sadness lacing her words. Louis hated hearing her so dejected. A seven year old shouldn't be feeling the way she was. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair to her. "You going to be there, right?"   
  
"Of course, little love. I wouldn't miss it for the world."   
  
Louis couldn't tell how much time passed between them talking and finishing up the episode of Maury that had been playing. Maury turned into the news and it was then that he told her she needed to decide on what she wanted for dinner and that it would have to be take out since he didn't feel like cooking. It was during dinner — pizza, because they deliver and Elise didn't feel like leaving the bed until the pizza man showed up — that his daughter decided to tell him how she felt about Harry not being around. She asked him to tell her why he was never there and why it seemed like he didn't care about them anymore.   
  
"Papa?" Elise broke the silence from across the table.   
  
"Hm?" he hummed.   
  
"Why does Daddy not love me anymore?" she asked.   
  
It caught him completely off guard and he nearly choked on the food he was chewing. "W-what?" he questioned, his voice rough after violently swallowing.   
  
"Daddy doesn't love me anymore," she said softly. "Why?"

Louis could hear her pain. He could hear the sorrow as she spoke. "Oh, baby," he whispered, abandoning his side of the table in favor of pulling her into his arms and holding her tight. "Daddy loves you. He loves you so much, baby girl."   
  
"B-but... I never see him anymore," Elise muttered against his shirt, her voice beginning to shake. "Did I do something wrong? Is that why he doesn't come home?"   
  
Louis swore his heart was going to be nonexistent by the time everything was said and done. He could literally feel it breaking as she started to cry against his chest, quiet sobs wrecking her little body as she held onto him with all her strength.   
  
"No, love," he began, rocking her back and forth. "You didn't do anything wrong."   
  
"Why does-doesn't he come home?"   
  
"I don't know, baby."   
  
She didn't need this in her life. At seven she should be watching tv and doing homework until bath time, she should be caring about the latest toys, the holidays coming up and what she wanted for Christmas. She shouldn't be questioning why her father was absent and why she felt like he didn't love her anymore. Louis was thrown through a loop when Elise pulled away long enough to ask if Harry didn't love her because she wasn't really theirs. He hadn't expected this to be something she would ask or even think about. Ever.  
  
"Elise, you need to listen to me, okay?" Louis said, releasing his hold on her and gently grasping her hands with his. "We don't care that you're not biologically ours, you're still our daughter. You're still ours. Blood isn't the only thing that makes you family and your Daddy would never not love you because you're adopted. Your Daddy fell in love with you the minute he saw you, baby, and that'll never change. Please, don't think he doesn't love you because he does. He loves you with all his heart. You're his world."   
  
By the end of his speech Louis couldn't tell whose tears belonged to who. She was watching him with big sad eyes as she nodded, leaning forward to wrap her arms around his neck and giving him the tightest hug she could.   
  
"Does Daddy still love you, Papa?" she asked. Surely, if he still loved her then he still loved her Papa.   
  
"Of course. Very much." Louis said, omitting the truth. Time passed slowly as they held each other. It took a glance to the clock on the stove for Louis to tell her that it was bath time and that he'd read her a story before bed. She asked if she could sleep with him because she didn't want to be alone and he couldn't do anything other than say yes. He didn't want to be alone either.   
  


\- X -

  
  
The last time Louis looked at his phone the clock said it was half past nine. That had been around the time when Elise fell asleep on Harry's side of the bed. She had one of his pillows tucked under her chin with one arm holding it tightly against her chest. Louis was softly carding his fingers through her hair as he mindlessly stared at the television. At one point he had been paying attention, but that didn't last very long because his mind kept replaying the conversation that cut their dinner short.   
  
Louis still couldn't believe that she actually asked him if Harry still loved her — still loved him. She shouldn't be asking him things like that and she damn sure shouldn't be sobbing over her world falling apart. That wasn't something a child should deal with. Hell, no one should have to question whether or not someone loves them the way the claim to.   
  
Except... sometimes that happens.  
  
It was while he was lost in thought that a noise from downstairs startled him. He froze, unsure of if he'd actually heard anything. A quiet cough made him relax momentarily before his heart sped up when he realized Harry was home. That meant he would have to face him and tell him about the night he had. Dread filled his body. Louis almost wished it was an intruder breaking into the house instead.  
  
He wasn't prepared to see Harry, let alone confront him. They hadn't spent much time together since the papers had been served and, for that, Louis was slightly relieved. He had been trying to avoid Harry at all costs because he didn't want him asking if he'd read and signed the papers yet. Louis didn't know how to tell him that he hadn't. He hadn't even given them a single thought.   
  
Also, Louis knew that if he spent too much time around Harry then he'd probably cave and tell Harry about the cancer. Harry, who had no rights to him anymore, and wouldn't care if he died standing right in front of him. At least, that's what Louis convinced himself of.   
  
With a heavy sigh, Louis slowly rose from the bed so that he didn't disturb Elise. He stood by the door and listened to Harry as he walked around, muttering to himself. Louis didn't care in the slightest what he was talking about, but he did catch himself wondering if his husband had eaten or not. Louis knew he shouldn't care about things like that anymore, but habits were hard to break. He'd probably always worry, even after everything became finalized. That is, if the cancer didn't progress and kill him first.   
  
"Harry?" Louis called out softly as he entered the kitchen to find the man leaning against the counter with a cold slice of pizza in his hand.   
  
"What?" Harry snapped.  
  
"Can we talk?" Louis asked, purposely staying as far from Harry as he could. He'd never been violent, but he was angry about something and Louis wasn't in any shape to find out if Harry would lose his cool. Harry watched him with cold eyes. Louis could recall a time when the green of his eyes would turn a shade brighter whenever he walked into the room — when Harry would look at him like he held all the answers to life's problems in the palms of his hands. Louis would miss that look. He was already beginning to.  
  
"Seriously, Louis? Do you know what time it is? I'm tired," Harry sighed, running a hand down his face.   
  
"Past eleven, I'm sure." Louis shot back with a shrug. "Possibly midnight. I haven't checked in a while."   
  
"Okay, then you know that its really fucking late and I have to work in the morning, so this can wait." Harry said, the anger he held earlier seeping into his words as he pushed off the counter and walked towards Louis.   
  
"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Louis started, watching him get closer. By instinct Louis took a step back. "I wouldn't have to talk to you this late if you'd come home at reasonable time. Maybe then you'd be able to get the beauty sleep you obviously deserve because you're so tired."   
  
"Louis, we're not doing this." Harry told him, stepping around the shorter man and heading for the stairs so that he could go to their room, shower and go to bed.   
  
"We are," Louis said. "I don't care what you want right now."   
  
"What the fuck has gotten into you?" Harry asked, turning around and shooting him a look that could kill.   
  
"What's gotten into me?"   
  
"Do you only repeat what I say? Because, honestly, I'm not in the mood for that shit either. I want to go to bed."   
  
"Okay, maybe you're into this shit then," Louis seethed, walking up to Harry with a purpose and getting closer than he intended. "Your daughter, Styles. Our daughter."   
  
"What about her?" Harry questioned, staring down at Louis as if challenging him. Louis tore his gaze away then, unable to look at Harry as he spoke.   
  
"Elise, she... Harry, she thinks you don't love her anymore. I know you don't love me anymore and that's fine, but it isn't okay when she's coming to me in tears because she thinks she did something wrong and that's why you aren't coming home."   
  
"W-what?" Harry croaked.   
  
"She thinks you stopped loving her," Louis repeated in simpler terms. Maybe that would get through his thick skull.  
  
"She thinks you don't want her anymore — that, that because she's adopted you don't love her and you don't want her. I had to listen to her cry and ask what she did wrong. Do you know how hard that was, Harry? Wait, no. Don't answer that because you don't."   
  
"What brought that up?" Harry asked, sounding defeated.   
  
"She has a chorus concert Friday and she couldn't remember the last time she saw you so that she could ask you to come." Louis told him, trying his hardest to keep himself from crying. It was hard enough having to comfort her, but when he didn't have anyone to comfort him things seemed ten times harder. "They've given her a solo and she was so excited to tell you, but you're never here."   
  
"I am too!" Harry exclaimed loudly.   
  
"You aren't, H. You're always at work," he said with air quotations around the word work, silently hoping that Harry would pick up on the hint he was giving him. "I don't blame her for asking, honestly. I'd be curious as well. You're barely home and when you are its late and she's in bed. She thinks you don't care about us anymore and I can't blame her for that. I can't blame her for wanting to know if you still love her because she's adopted or because she doesn't fit into the life you're tr—"   
  
"Stop. Just... fucking shut up, Louis." Harry interrupted, rolling his eyes at Louis' tirade. "Did you tell her she's right? That I don't love her because she's not mine? Did you feed into that and tell her that I'm leaving you? Did you tell her that Daddy doesn't love Papa anymore? Because, news flash, Lou, I haven't been in love with you for a while. Don't try to poison my daughter against me."   
  
Red hot, boiling anger flooded Harry's veins as he watched Louis' entire demeanor change. He went from this confident man that needed his voice to be heard to someone he didn't know anymore. Harry watched all the color drain from Louis' face, watched how his body lost its fight and saw the tears clouding his eyes. Louis wouldn't cry in front of him, he knew, but in his anger he wanted to see Louis break. Harry wanted nothing more than to see it happen.   
  
Louis stared at him, blue eyes filling with tears at the admission he already knew. He had known that Harry didn't love him, but it still hurt to hear him say it. Honestly, he could've lived without ever hearing the phrase 'I don't love you anymore' come from the man he thought would be his forever. Harry was, once upon a dream, his fairy tale ending. Not all fairy tales have happy endings, he was learning.   
  
"I'm not trying to poison her," Louis said softly. "If you would've let me finish you would know that I lied to her about you loving me. You would know that I told her that you love her more than the world and that," Louis paused, breathing heavily, "you fell in love with her the first time you saw her — that you knew she was yours before even signing the papers. Elise was your missing puzzle piece. I told her blood doesn't make a family and that you'll always love her."   
  
All the anger Harry was holding left his body. In that moment, as he watched Louis curl into himself, appearing smaller than he was, Harry was reminded of the person he fell in love with when they were barely out of high school. Harry saw a quick glimpse of the same Louis that would put up a fight for him when someone said they were wrong; said they were going to hell because gay people don't deserve happiness and love. This person, this version of Louis in front of him was the same person that fought for them. He was the same person that let Harry pick out the colors for their wedding, and the same person that picked out Elise's first outfit on the day they brought her home from the hospital at two months old when they were young and so very inexperienced. But, this Louis... he's also the same person that Harry fell out of love with. They'd grown too comfortable with one another and things had grown stale. Louis no longer held that fire that drew a crowd in, at least, that's what Harry thought. Louis was proving him wrong, though. His fire was still burning, albeit weakly.   
  
"You can't sleep in my bed tonight, Harry." Louis said quietly as he walked past his husband and headed for the stairs. "Elise took your spot tonight because neither of us wanted to be alone. I'm sorry."   
  
"It... It's okay," Harry whispered, watching as Louis started up the stairs before stopping mid journey and turning to look at him.  
  
"For what it's worth, H, I love you and I hope, for Elise's sake, that you can at least pretend that nothing's wrong for a little while." Louis' voice was trembling as he spoke, his throat raw from where he was swallowing his tears and trying to remain collected enough to get to his room so that he could lock himself in the bathroom to cry and question where he went wrong without being bothered.  
  
Louis wanted to know what he did to deserve everything. He also wanted to try to figure out what he was mourning because he wasn't sure what it was anymore. Was he broken over their relationship and marriage being in shambles? Was it not knowing if he'd get to see Elise grow up or see his siblings make the same mistakes he made and accomplish greater things than he ever could? Was he mourning the life he wasn't sure he'd get a second chance to live? Louis didn't know, but he knew he wasn't ready for anything headed his direction.

But, hey, things happen for a reason, he figured.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Zayn at the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had zero intention of posting this because i've been super down lately and this story is sad, but i figured it might help me if i post it, so here we are.
> 
> i want to reiterate, cancer meds or meds in general can mess with a person, so if louis seems weird... well, you know.
> 
> enjoy.

"So," Zayn started as he turned the volume up on the remote connected to Louis' hospital bed. He wasn't exactly watching anything, but the noise drowned out the sounds of all the machines that Louis was hooked up.

"So?" Louis questioned, turning his head to look at him.

"How have things been at home?" Zayn asked.

"Peachy," Louis deadpanned.

Zayn shook his head, placing the remote down next to Louis. "I know you're feeling like shit, but for real, how have things been?"

Louis shrugged. He pulled his jacket tighter around his body for extra warmth. Ever since he started losing weight he found himself cold almost all the time and it was becoming difficult to stay warm. Any little bit warmth he could find he welcomed with open arms.

"I haven't told him that I know about Kendall," he admitted.

"Why not?" Zayn inquired.

"He might leave me," Louis muttered. "I mean, he wants a divorce, so I know he's leaving me, but I don't think I could live without him if he were to leave me right now. I need to be sure I can live without him, y'know? If I don't tell him at least I get to see him on the days he decides to come home. Does that make sense?"

Louis didn't know if anything he said anymore made sense. How could he still want to live with the man who cheated on him? Who left him for something new — something shiny and better looking and female.

"It makes sense," Zayn hums. "I couldn't imagine still loving him, though. You're a stronger person than I am. I would've packed his shit up and tossed it out. Fuck him," he added as an afterthought.

"I'm not supposed to love him anymore," Louis told him. "I know that, but... I don't know, Z. Did I tell you what he said to me the other night?"

Zayn nodded, fiddling with the edge of the thin, scratchy hospital blanket. He hated the way it felt in his hand. Zayn could recall their conversation word for word. Louis literally cried on his shoulder for hours the day after it happened. If he knew he could get away with it, Harry would become acquainted with his fist. They would be the best of friends.

Zayn couldn't wrap his mind around Harry's train of thought and he said as much to Louis. He told him that he couldn't understand how Harry could just decide one day that Louis was no longer worth it. Louis, who loved Harry with his entirety and then some, was no longer of value because some young woman decided that Harry needed to pay attention to her; he needed to lose focus of his family and the person who he vowed til death do us part to. That vow had certainly been broken, even if he didn't know that Louis was sick.

Zayn hated him.

"Lou, did he ever agree to make peace at home? You never got around to telling me that." Zayn said.

"I didn't wait for him to answer me, honestly. I didn't think I could keep control of myself, so I went to my room," Louis answered him. "He's been trying more, but I need him to try harder. Elise, she's smart. She sees things and I know she's going to start questioning everything again and I don't think I can go through that a second time."

Zayn opened his mouth to ask how Harry was trying, but he couldn't get a word in because Louis grabbed the bed pan sitting next to him. In ten seconds Louis went from feeling okay to being sicker than Zayn had ever seen him. He watched Louis as his body painfully lurched forward as it expelled the contents of his stomach. It was mainly water, considering that he had no appetite, but still, it had to go. Dry heaving was no walk in the park either. The only comfort Louis had was Zayn gently rubbing his back and whispering "you got this, you'll get through this, you can beat this, you're a survivor". Louis needed all the words of encouragement he could get.

Sometimes Louis wasn't so sure. He wasn't sure if he wanted to keep fighting if the medication, chemo and radiation were going to keep him sick all the time. It sucked. Louis found himself thinking at times that it would probably be easier to die than to keep trying to remain positive. He wouldn't tell anyone this, of course.

The round of nausea didn't last as long as it used to when Louis first started treatments three times a week roughly a few weeks prior. This was a victory, he told himself. He hated when he got sick. It made him feel worse and super drained. It made it harder to make himself appear presentable by the time Elise got home from school.

"Do you think you'll be better by the time Christmas comes around?" Zayn pondered.

"Honestly? Probably not. I think I'm going to get worse before I get better," Louis told him. The silent if hung in the air.

"So, before you rudely got sick," Zayn joked, earning a small smile from his best friend, "you never did tell me what Harry's been doing to show that he's trying."

"Um. He comes home earlier on the days that he wants to come home," Louis said, leaning back against the bed and placing the bed pan next to him in case he had to use it again. "He calls to tell Elise he loves her if he doesn't come home. Uh, when she asked him one night if he stil loves me h—"

"She did that?" Zayn cut him off, eyes wide.

"Yup, she did that. And... uh, he said he does."

"Oh, Lou."

"It's okay," Louis whispered.

In reality, it wasn't okay. It was never okay for him to lie to their daughter and for Harry to say those things so easily, especially in front of him. In those moments, Louis got weak and wanted to be held by his husband. Louis wanted to tell him that he didn't want a divorce, despite the cheating and the fact that he was no longer loved. He wanted to tell Harry about the cancer that he was tired of battling.

"Anything else?"

"Harry, he... he acts like he isn't doing anything wrong."

"Uh, what?" Zayn asked, eyebrow raised and expression showing his curiosity.

"He thinks that just because he's doing the bare minimum when it comes to being at home that he isn't doing anything wrong otherwise. He's still sitting on this secret that he let ruin us and he has no idea that I know because I haven't told him. And, and... this pretending thing? It's driving me fucking crazy, Z. Sometimes he sounds so sincere and real and I can't help but want to believe him when he tells Elise that we're his world, even though that's the farthest thing from the truth. Kendall is. She's his world — his everything. I don't think he plans on coming clean about her. I'm pretty sure he thinks I'm completely oblivious."

"Maybe you should break the ice then," Zayn suggests. "The worst thing he can do is leave you, like you said earlier, but that shouldn't be what keeps you from telling him. What's the harm in telling him that you know?"

The door to the room opened before Louis could say anything. It startled them both into silence as one of his nurses, his favorite one, came in to check his vitals and ask if he needed anything. She readjusted his IV and emptied his bed pan in the bathroom next to the door. He told her that he didn't need anything, that he was fine and, as quickly as she entered, she was leaving. Louis would never get used to the nurses coming and going.

When the door shut behind his nurse, Louis eyed Zayn warily. "The harm, love, is the damage that will hurt Elise if I spill the beans. She thinks everything is okay right now and I need to keep her as happy as I can before she's left with one parent that might end up deciding that he doesn't want her when I'm gone."

"When? Don't you mean if?"

"Z, you've heard the doctors." Louis said softly.

"You'll beat this, Lou. You're strong. I know you will."

"I hope you're right because I don't want to leave her. What if he actually doesn't want her anymore? Can you un-adopt a child?" Louis wondered out loud. "I can't see a child fitting in with their lifestyle. Most people don't want to take on raising a child that isn't theirs, let alone a kid with no biological ties to the man they're with, especially not at Kendall's age. No one wants to raise someone else's adopted child."

"How do you know she wouldn't take her in?"

"She doesn't seem like the type of person that would. She's young — barely in her twenties and she's still living her best life. I think this is a game to her right now." Louis said, playing with the zipper on his jacket to keep his hands busy as he spoke. "I think she saw Harry as some kind of conquest and now that she has him she's going to bleed him dry until there's nothing more for him to give. And then what? He's going to realize that he fucked up when he ends up alone."

"You need to tell him this," Zayn told him. "He deserves to know these things. You guys are still married, so technically if affects you, y'know?"

"I know that, but if I tell him then things are likely to get messy and I don't need that right now." 

Zayn hummed in response. That he could understand.

Louis sighed, looking down at his hands. He picked at one of the jacket sleeves as he thought about all the possible scenarios that could happen if he told Harry. None of the outcomes were positive and that scared him.

"Hey, Z?"

"Yeah?"

"Remind me tomorrow to contact my lawyer so I can change my power of attorney," Louis said. "You've heard them tell me that I'm going to need to be hospitalized for treatments because three times a week isn't working. I don't want Harry having that kind of power over my life and stuff, especially when he's with someone else most of the time. God only knows what she'll try to convince him to do."

Honestly, that was only part of the reason he wanted it changed. Louis didn't want Harry to find out where he'd be when he got admitted. He didn't want Harry to see him or to make any more major life decisions for him. Louis was determined to fight without him, no matter how much he wanted Harry there to hold his hand and tell him everything was going to to be fine. Louis wanted him out of the picture in the off chance that he didn't make it. He made a mental note to tell his mother this before he forgot. He also needed to talk to his lawyer about getting Elise placed in the care of his mother because Harry was never around and he didn't want her to grow up in a house where she wasn't wanted.

Louis had a lot of things he needed done and God forbid that he not be allowed to do them before it became too late.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little family reunion of sorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, i would like to thank you guys for the support i've gotten. i appreciate each sub, kudo, comment very much. just clicking on my story and giving it a chance, too. thank you.
> 
> i'm going to try to keep on a 2 - 3 post schedule. i wasn't going to tonight because today marks the first anniversary of a good friend losing his battle with his demons... but, i figured, why not? i want to get it out there.
> 
> this one is a little happier. maybe.
> 
> enjoy.

Louis could feel that something was off the moment he opened his eyes. There was an air in the room that different than most mornings and it bothered him. It didn't feel right. He couldn't quite place what was different, but he wanted to find out.

He glanced at the clock, noticing that it was still too early for Elise to be awake, which meant that he would have a little time to himself before he had to fix breakfast. It gave him time to shower (stare at himself in the mirror and reconsider this cancer thing because he didn't look like himself anymore), get dressed in the warmest clothes he could find and contemplate if today would be the day that he opened the bed side table drawer to read over the divorce papers.

It wouldn't be. 

Louis went through this every single day. He always woke up with a little bit of time to himself before Elise got up, breakfast and then leaving when Zayn, Lottie or his mom came to get him for treatment and doctor visits. His doctor decided at his last check-up that he'd have treatments daily because his cancer started to progress faster than anticipated and that worried him. Louis knew it would get worse, but he didn't think it would get so bad within a week. Louis and everyone that knew thought the treatments were working, but apparently that wasn't the case when they said he could start taking chemo orally at home several times a day versus just at the hospital. He'd been under the impression that he was getting better, but apparently. He didn't know anymore.

Louis sat on his bed in silence, staring at nothing and thinking about everything. He thought about how much Harry was working with him to make sure Elise saw them as they used to be. Or, rather, as close to it as they could get. Harry started coming home early most nights to have dinner and spend time with them before bed. He had convinced Louis to let him back into their room for the sake of playing the part. His argument was that eventually Elise would pick up on them not sharing the same room. Louis could see how that would end up a problem, so he allowed Harry back into their room when he'd previously been stuck sleeping in the guest room or downstairs on the couch.

Harry was acting like a totally different person. Sometimes. While he still hadn't confessed to Louis about cheating on him and continuing to see her, Harry was beginning to show signs of the man he married. If Louis wasn't careful he knew that he'd be unable to sign the papers when the time came and he couldn't have that happen.

He couldn't get attached again. He just couldn't.

With a tired mind and heavy heart, Louis finally got himself together so that he could get things started for the morning. Elise usually wasn't very picky, but he liked to give her variety and whatever she didn't eat she could take for lunch, eat as a snack after school or he would nibble on it until he got full. Louis yawned, rubbing his eyes with the sleeves of the light blue sweater that covered his hands as he walked down stairs and to the kitchen. He headed for the coffee pot first, but found it already on and a mug — his favorite mug — placed in front of it waiting to be used. Louis paused, brows furrowed in confusion as he turned around, softly gasping when he saw Harry leaning against the stove with his own mug in his hands.

"Good morning, love," Harry greeted him, a small smile playing on his lips.

Okay. New development. 

Louis pinched himself to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. He hadn't seen his husband in the morning in such a long time that he'd forgotten what it was like. Louis couldn't say when he last saw Harry before the rest of the world got to him first — back when Louis could kiss him good morning and tell Harry that he loved him first thing. That wasn't a thing now. He never got to see him before anyone else. It sucked.

"Uh... G-good morning," Louis stuttered in return, staring at Harry. How long had it been since he'd seen him smile? God, he missed his smile. The one only reserved just for him. Louis couldn't believe that he was seeing it again.

"Did you sleep well?" Harry asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"I did, thank you. Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Sleep well, duh."

"Of course," Harry said. "I always sleep well with you."

His words made Louis' heart stutter. If he didn't know any better Louis would think that Harry wasn't pretending anymore and was actually trying to fix things. That couldn't be the case, though, because some nights he still smelled like alcohol, stale smoke, and overly floral perfume. Sometimes one or the other; sometimes all three at once.

"That's great," Louis said, commenting only on the fact that Harry slept well. At least, that's what he told himself. "I'm glad."

Louis stood beside the sink as he sipped at his coffee, watching the world outside the window in front of him. Somehow he had managed to convince Harry to put up a bird house and feeder directly in front of the window so that he could watch the birds. Harry hadn't been to keen on the idea, but it made Louis happy, so he went with it. Harry owned the house for a short time before Louis came into the picture, so it was a change that he felt weird about. His mother left him the house when he was barely eighteen after she remarried. It would be a few months before Louis would waltz into his life and, by that time, Harry told himself that he wouldn't make any changes to any part of the house. One could argue that it was actually the yard (Louis told him such), but Harry's logic said it was basically the same thing — it also ruined the view of the back yard.

"Do you still watch them?" Harry asked him.

"What?" Louis titled his head, puzzled.

"The birds," Harry said. "Do you still watch them?"

Louis nodded, lifting his mug up to his lips. He watched them most mornings and it made his day sometimes because he knew that he wouldn't get to watch them one day. Based on the way things were progressing the only view he would be seeing would be from a hospital room would be a bleak one. It would probably only be the clouds and the sky or the wall to another part of the hospital.

"I still can't believe I put that up," Harry said quietly.

"I can't either, to be honest. You fought me so hard." Louis laughed, remembering how pissed off Harry had gotten when Louis ignored him one day because Harry told him he wouldn't do it and _fuck the birds, Lou, seriously, fuck them_.

"It's grown on me," Harry confessed. "I don't think it would look the same if it were gone at this point."

Louis looked over his shoulder at him with an eyebrow raised. The only thought that was going through his head was that nothing would be the same with him gone. Louis knew that things would be different without him for both Harry and Elise. Harry would likely forget him over time, since he had no problem falling out of love with him. He would move onto Kendall and the family she could give him. Maybe then he'd be happy. He would find the happiness that he couldn't find with Louis.

Elise, however, was an entirely different story. Louis was damn near positive that she'd be an absolute mess. At seven years old he knew that she wouldn't know how to properly process the fact that he's gone and she'll have to look to Harry for guidance. He honestly didn't think that his husband would help her. A part of him said that he needed to give Harry more rope to work with, but he just couldn't. Louis was afraid she'd be treated differently.

That was one of the reasons he wanted his mother to get her. He didn't want to take Elise from Harry, but if he was going to spend the majority of his time with mcskank then he shouldn't have her. Louis wanted her to be with someone that would be there for her at all times. He knew that his mother would be that person. His mother would fight for Elise just because he wanted her to. She'd been his life saver through nearly everything in his life and was, aside from Zayn, his biggest supporter.

"Lou? Love? Baby?"

"Huh?" Louis said, snapping out of his thoughts and turning around to face Harry.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I don't know. You just... You seem down."

"Mm," he hummed.

"You sure you're good?" Harry tried again. "You can talk to me, you know."

But, see, that was the thing. He couldn't talk to him. Not really. Harry closed that door on him when he decided that he wasn't worth keeping. Harry slammed that door in his face the first time he slept with Kendall. Harry broke the trust between them just as easily as he built it up.

Louis could only nod in response, unsure of how to tell him these things.

"Hey," Harry whispered, coming up beside him and placing a hand on Louis' side. "I know things aren't perfect right now, but I'm still here if you need me, Lou. Don't completely shut me out. Not yet, at least."

Louis snorted. He couldn't help it. How ironic, given that Harry shut him out months ago.

"On that note, what would you like for breakfast?" Harry questioned, releasing his hold on the shorter man.

Louis mourned the loss of contact. Harry's hand was warm. He'd finally found that warmth that he had been searching for as Harry held him closer than he had in months and he wanted that warmth back. Harry's momentary warmth had been enough to chase the cold away from Louis' bones.

Louis never got around to answering him because Elise chose that moment to make her presence known. He knew she'd been standing there longer than she wanted them to think because she had tears in her eyes — they were doing exactly what they needed to do so that there wouldn't be anymore questions asked. Thankfully (and hopefully) she didn't know that they were acting.

"Daddy, you're here!" she squealed as she ran to Harry, her small arms wrapping around his waist as she buried her face in the fabric of his shirt.

"Good morning, baby girl." Harry said, embracing her the way only he could. If asked, she would tell anyone that he gave the best hugs.

"Morning, love." Louis greeted from the spot he'd claimed some time ago.

"Good morning, Papa! Daddy's here!" she all but shouted, laughter in her tiny voice. He always wanted to see her this way.

"So he is." Louis said, a small smile on his face.

"What's for breakfast?" she asked them without releasing her hold on Harry.

"What do you want, El? Papa wouldn't tell me what he wants."

"Papa doesn't eat much anymore, Daddy." Elise told him as she pulled back to look up at Harry with the same wide, sad eyes she'd given Louis. Those eyes could make God move mountains.

"What?" Harry voiced.

"I've never been a big breakfast person. You know this."

"Yeah, but you still eat because you know you'll get hungry before the lunch bell rings." Harry said, his head tilted to the side, messy curls falling past his shoulder and green eyes searching Louis' eyes for some kind of silent answer to his statement.

"I eat." Louis told him. "Sometimes. I'm just not hungry much. Stressed out and stuff, y'know how it is."

Harry sighed, shaking his head and turning his attention back to Elise, who was pulling out all of the things needed to make pancakes. Harry hadn't made breakfast in so long that she'd forgotten what it tasted like.

"That's what you want?" Harry asked her. She answered with an enthusiastic nod.

Louis eventually made his way to the island in the center of the room where he sat down at one of the bar stools, watching them work together. He missed this — he missed spending his mornings with them; watching them sing as they prepped and made breakfast, and watching how Elise would throw in some random dance move she learned at school that would have Harry scrunching up his nose before attempting to do it as well. It never worked. He always looked weird, it came out wrong or he fell. Louis would laugh at him and tell him not to give up his day job. Harry would respond by sticking out his tongue.

That's how they worked once upon a time. Louis missed it. He could only hope that a part of Harry missed it too.

"Papa!" Elise called out to him.

"Yes, baby?"

"How many?" she asked him, holding an empty plate.

"Two, please." Louis said.

"That's all you want, Lou? Is that gonna be enough?" Harry asked, voice deep and dripping with concern.

"Yeah," he began, "that's it." Two would be easier to get up when he got sick later on. "Two pancakes it enough for me."

"Suit yourself. More for us."

Louis joined them at the table. The air around them was light as they talked about nothing and everything. It was like nothing changed between them; their family hadn't been torn at the seams because Harry couldn't remain faithful. Louis wished that he could turn back time so that he wouldn't have to go through this — so that cancer wouldn't be killing him and he could have more time with them. Between the guilt of not telling Harry and the cancer itself, Louis wasn't sure if he would even make it to see the day when they placed him in the hospital back home where his mother lived.

Well, the guilt of not telling him about the cancer and the regret that he had about not confronting Harry when he had the chance. Maybe he could've nipped the whole Kendall thing in the bud before it became what it was. Hindsight always was twenty-twenty.

"Papa, Daddy," Elise started as she got up from the table to rinse her dishes and place them in the dishwasher. When she had their attention she added a barely whispered, "thank you for this morning. I had fun."

"You don't have to thank us, baby." Louis said. "It's what we do."

"What he said," Harry said with a smile.

"I need to get ready for school now!" she exclaimed as she ran from the room, down the hall and up the stairs. "I'll be right back!"

They could hear her laughter as she ran to her room at the end of the hallway. She'd been happier than Louis had seen her in a long time. They were finally doing something right.

"Lou?"

"Hm?" Louis hummed in acknowledgment.

"How long do we have to keep this up?" Harry asked.

"Not much longer," Louis told him truthfully. It wouldn't be. Louis was set to leave soon. He had a battle that he had to focus all his energy on fighting. Louis could see the moment when Harry's shoulders relaxed. It was like he'd been carrying that question and waiting to ask for a while.

"Why?" Louis asked out of pure curiosity.

"Because," Harry responded.

"Because...?"

"I don't have to tell you anything, Louis. Stop acting like a child."

"Sorry," Louis whispered, defeated. Here he'd been thinking that they'd started going somewhere with this weird act. That's what he got for thinking.

"Papa? Daddy?"

"Be right there," Louis answered, getting up from the table and pushing past Harry more violently than he intended to.

Harry came up beside him as Elise talked nonstop about how happy she was that they were able to sit down and have breakfast together because it'd been a million years since it happened last. Harry wrapped an arm around Louis' waist and pulled him close until he was flush against the taller man's side. Immediately the warmth Louis craved seeped into every inch of his body, but he knew it was only fleeting. The warmth didn't belong to him anymore. It belonged to someone else and Harry was making him painfully aware of that by dropping hints and asking when they were going to end this thing that they had going on.

Elise hugged and kissed them both before darting out the door to catch the bus, waving behind her until they couldn't see her anymore. Still, they didn't move away from one another.

"Lou?" Harry's voice was soft as he looked down at the smaller man.

"Yeah?" Louis looked up, blue locking onto green.

"Do you think things would've been different if we tried harder? If we fought for each other?" Harry asked, a sad smile playing across his face for a brief moment as tears welled up in his eyes. Louis hated seeing him cry.

"I tried as hard as I could," Louis whispered, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. "I can't fight anymore, H. I just can't do it. You gave us up. That wasn't me, so don't ask me if we tried harder. You need to ask yourself if things would've been different if you did."

It was with that said that Louis broke away from his husband and headed upstairs before he would say anything that he may regret later. Like, perhaps, that he was tired of fighting because this cancer was kicking his ass and he was tired of trying to figure out if he wanted to live or die. Each day he had a different resolve — he wanted to live when he woke up, but now he wasn't too sure.

Giving up seemed like the easiest option.


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, i'm sorry this is later than 3 days, but i really didn't feel up to bothering because i've been crashing immediately after work every night. i binged the umbrella academy season 2 the other day and i also decided to redo my island on animal crossing. that's taking up a lot of my extra time. oops.
> 
> there's smut (kind of?) in this chapter. i haven't written smut or anything spicy in years, so if it sucks, i deeply apologize.
> 
> fun fact, in this story i envision long hair harry because i absolutely love his long hair. imagine an older harry with long hair. that's what i'm going for.
> 
> sorry for rambling.
> 
> enjoy.

Another day brought more treatments. 

Louis was honestly over the daily trips to the hospital, even though his doctor informed him that — after they switched his medications — his cancer cells were slowly being killed off. His body was winning, but he still had a long way to go before complete or partial remission. Louis, for the time being, felt like he was on top of the world. Something was finally going right for a change.

Despite this small victory, his doctor still advised Louis that moving back home until he was better was something that he wanted him to do. There was a hospital there, in his hometown, that had a better treatment center and was more equipped to have him there full time. They told him that he had a greater chance of getting better sooner by being there and that sounded like music to his ears. Louis was more than ready to be cancer free. He was also ready to be closer to his mother so she wouldn't have to drive as much and as far to come help him two days a week.

The downside to this move was that it would be taking place in a couple weeks and that left him little time to spend with Elise and, surprisingly, Harry. He always wanted to spend time with Harry, especially recently, and regardless of how Harry treated him or talked to him like he meant nothing sometimes. Louis found, as he lay awake in bed one night, that Harry was the one thing he didn't know if he could give up completely.

After everything, Harry was still his happy place. Harry was home.

Louis had a deadline. In two weeks he would have to come clean about everything he was keeping locked up. He'd have to tell Harry about the cancer and how at one point they didn't know if he was going to survive because it was growing too quickly. That had been during a period where Harry found fault in every little thing Louis did because he would sleep for hours after treatments. Maybe if Harry had known the reason for his bone deep exhaustion he wouldn't have been such a prick, but Louis still didn't tell him. Instead, he took the words that Harry threw at him and kept going.

He would finally get to confess to Harry that he'd been aware of his side chick for almost as long as they'd been together. He didn't know how Harry would take it and, honestly, he really didn't care anymore, anyway. It would all be out in the open and the divorce papers would be signed just like Harry wanted.

This wasn't the life he would've picked for himself — divorcing, fighting cancer and a single father at thirty years old, but sometimes things happened. He couldn't help what life decided to throw his way, even though he wished he could stop it.

Louis stayed in bed after returning home from the hospital with tears in his eyes that were making it hard to see. He couldn't stop thinking about the things he was going to leave behind. The house he'd made his and the man that had, at one point, shown him enough love to last a lifetime. The job he had hopes of returning to because he missed his classroom and being a drama teacher.

But the worst thing about all of this was that he was willingly walking away from Elise. He was turning his back on the little girl he adopted — on his daughter. Louis' heart was breaking as he lay there staring at the ceiling because he knew that it was going to hurt her more than it would hurt him. He knowingly made the choice to follow his doctor's orders — she didn't. She had no idea. Louis desperately hoped that he would get to return to her. He wanted to get better just for her, despite the many times he'd found himself wanting to give up.

Louis' mother, for once in her life, told him that she wouldn't do something for him. She adamantly refused to take Elise away from Harry. She said Louis was being ridiculous thinking that Harry would abandon his child for his girlfriend. His mother told him that if he didn't make it then at least Elise would still have her Daddy and that's who she'd look for the most to comfort her. Harry wouldn't keep Elise from her family, she told him, because he knew how important family was to them. Louis knew that he couldn't argue her logic because it made sense. He just hoped that Harry would do right by their daughter. Assuming that he didn't make it, of course.

It was during this moment, when Louis stopped thinking the worst, that Harry decided to come home early. 

Louis heard the exact moment Harry came into the house. He heard the thump of his shoes as he took them off and dropped them in front of the closet door, his keys were the next thing to make a noise as they were dropped onto the worn out table in their small foyer. He had Harry's entire routine down and, as Harry began to walk up the stairs, he was thankful that the school let out early, explaining why he'd already be home, even though Harry already knew that he got home way before him.

The moment Harry realized Louis was home was almost comical. First, he almost screamed like the little girl he claims he isn't, which sent Louis into a fit of laughter. Second, Harry stood holding a hand to his chest like he'd seen the devil himself, his chest heaving as he tried to calm his breathing. Louis couldn't help but smile over this one little, unimportant event. Third, something shifted in the atmosphere and neither of them knew what that something was.

After successfully calming down, Harry removed his work clothes and opted for something much more comfortable to lounge around in for the rest of the day. It was rare for him to be able to leave early, so he was going to enjoy it. Once he changed into a pair of old, worn out grey sweats and a band t-shirt that Louis hadn't seen in years, Harry claimed the spot beside his husband on the bed. Harry lay down on his side, facing the older man and watching him with a calculated gaze.

Louis watched him right back. He was captivated by the fact that Harry was there when he didn't need to be. It wasn't as if Elise was going to be walking in any time soon. It was like, in that instance, everything was right in the world. Blue searched green and what was found did not disappoint either of them.

There, hidden in his tired eyes and behind his quizzical gaze, Louis saw remnants of the man he fell in love with when the were still teenagers; barely adults and still trying to figure life out. They had been out with a group of mutual friends (how they'd never met before, he had no idea) and it was love at first sight. At least, on his end. Louis only took one look at Harry, with his curls and big, bright eyes sitting on the old couch they'd found behind a closed furniture store. Harry sat beside his childhood friend, Ryan, high as a kite and laughing over something that wasn't funny at all. 

Louis knew then. He knew that Harry was his forever and that there wouldn't be another person like him. He believed, at one point, that Harry felt the same way about him, but well, things changed and forever ended.

"Lou," Harry whispered.

"Hm?" Louis hummed in response.

"Do you... Can I?" Harry asked, momentarily forgetting what he was trying to say.

Whatever it was, Louis nodded. That was all Harry needed to close the gap between them. Almost immediately Harry had a hand on Louis' side as he leaned over him to press a small kiss against his husband's lips. That one kiss was it took for Louis to bring Harry down on top of him, their bodies slotting together like missing jigsaw pieces.

Harry kissed Louis like he was the sole reason for him being alive and his mouth was the reason he breathed. It was deep, hard and full of the passion he thought he'd never find again. Louis moaned as he sought to deepen the kiss, bringing a hand to Harry's cheek and holding him there for leverage. Louis' moans were like music and Harry — _fuck_ , he'd never heard anything more beautiful in his life.

Their mouths worked together, a perfect lead and follow as their tongues danced a dance that only they knew. A dance that was all theirs; one made just for them. It was one they'd never replicate with anyone else.

The hand that had been squeezing Louis' side slowly slid under his shirt and skipped along his ribs, the shirt pushing upwards with his movements. Louis pulled away then, lips red and so very swollen, blue eyes blown and breathing erratic. Harry thought Louis was the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen in that moment. Louis' beauty rivaled the hope diamond, the sun and everything in between. Louis was his everything and, as the older man shed his shirt, Harry decided he couldn't give this up.

"Oh, God." Harry cried out as Louis rocked his hips upwards. He hadn't been this turned on in such a long time. "God, Lou."

"Yeah, baby?" Louis leaned up, moaning against the his ear.

Harry shuddered before his mouth found Louis' again, heated and rough and longing. He could feel Louis run a hand through his hair and he was so glad he hadn't gotten it cut because that one tug made all the difference. Louis knew that Harry liked having his hair played with in bed and he'd be damned if he didn't use the long length to his advantage.

"Off, love," Louis said between kisses as he pulled at the bottom of Harry's shirt.

Harry kissed him once more for good measure before sitting up to remove said article of clothing. Louis looked at him like the piece of art he was. His tattoos were on full display — the half broken heart on his chest being Louis' favorite. To Louis, looking at Harry was his favorite past time. He could stare at his husband for hours; taking in the pudge on his hips ("I do not have love handles!") and the muscles he kept hidden, the scar along his stomach from something stupid he did as a kid that was partially covered by his laurel tattoos. Harry hated that scar once upon a time, but Louis said it was favorite thing about him. Everything about Harry screamed perfection and he was lucky — so, so fucking lucky that this man was his.

Harry ground his hips down against Louis' like a schoolboy experiencing his first time and the noises that one simple movement elicited from Louis' mouth were like sin on God's tongue. Harry created a trail of soft bites, light bruises and kisses down Louis' chest and to his stomach, where he stopped just above the band of his pajama pants. He looked up at Louis for the okay to continue, eyes wide with lust and pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth.

Louis nodded in confirmation, bucking his hips up. His eagerness made Harry chuckle as he pulled Louis' pajamas down to reveal one of Harry's favorite parts on Louis' body — his thighs. He gave a rather harsh bite to the inside of one thigh before he pulled down the boxers to release Louis' leaking cock.

"P-please, Haz," Louis begged.

"What do you want, love?" Harry asked, mouthing at Louis' quivering thighs. He knew damn well what his husband wanted.

"Want you," Louis said, moaning as Harry gave his cock a tentative lick.

""You like that, baby?"

"Y-yes," Louis stuttered, a low moan following his words. "M-more of that."

"Only because you said so."

One of Louis' hand found purchase in Harry's curls, tangling his hair around his fingers as Harry wrapped a hand around the base of Louis' cock while he sucked the head into his mouth. Louis squirmed beneath him, offering the most delicious sounds for little work. Harry's other hand slid into his own pants, where he palmed himself through his boxers. He needed this release just as much as Louis.

Harry took as much of Louis as he could into his mouth, dragging his tongue along his length as he bobbed his head to a rhythm only he could hear. Harry jerked Louis with his hand as he swirled his tongue, dipping into the slit when he pulled off with a wet pop! and a rather loud, drawn out moan falling from Louis' lips as he writhed on the bed. Harry watched him through hooded eyes, taking in the sight of the older man. He looked like an absolute wreck, hair tousled and chest heaving. It was all Harry needed to see as he slipped his hand into his boxers to bring himself to completion.

"Harry, d-don't stop," Louis breathed out, reaching down with one hand and wrapping his fingers around himself. Louis slowly began to finish himself, using the saliva left by Harry's mouth to speed up the process. He really needed this. It'd been ages since he'd gotten off and he was very much deserving of this reward after everything he'd been through.

"C'mon, baby," Harry encouraged as he licked his lips, stopping Louis' hand so that he could take him back into his mouth. The warmth of Harry's mouth was exactly what he needed.

"I'm close. So fucking close," Louis whispered in a broken moan, bucking his hips upwards.

Louis fucking his mouth sent Harry over the edge as he came in his pants like the inexperienced person he wasn't. Louis, on the other hand, was looking down at Harry and asking if he could finish on Harry's face. Harry agreed, of course.

Harry pulled off Louis' cock as his husband worked himself until Harry could see the muscles of his stomach tighten and feel the tremble of Louis' thighs as he shot his load on Harry's face. It went everywhere — in his mouth and on his lips, on one cheek, across the bridge of his nose and in his hair. Louis liked seeing Harry like this, covered in his seed. It was one of the hottest things he'd ever seen in his life.

Once Louis regulated his breathing, he apologized to Harry for the mess he made, but Harry shushed him with a kiss and telling him that he needed to taste himself. Harry had, at some point, wiped his face off and crawled back up until they were laying together, his chest pressed against Louis' back. The younger man held Louis like his life depended on it as Louis fell into a peaceful sleep.

He was where he was meant to be. Harry didn't know how he could give this it up. He couldn't even remember why he'd decided to in the first place. Thinking long and hard about the decision he couldn't remember making, Harry joined Louis in taking a nap. He decided, then and there, in his last moment of consciousness that there was no way in hell that he could follow through with the divorce.

They were an eternity kind of deal — an infinity package.


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis has questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact, this wasn't the original chapter 6. i literally typed this chapter up over the last hour because i wanted something a little lighter after the last chapter. i didn't want to jump straight into the sadder chapters because that's what the original chapter 6 is. i'm just going to push back the chapters and start back on my already written ones with chapter 7.
> 
> also, if you got notified for a chapter 5 update i was fixing something that bothered me. sentence placement, i hope you understand.
> 
> for now, here's a little filler chapter that does little for the story but still ties into the big picture somehow. kind of.
> 
> enjoy.

Later that evening Louis woke up to find himself alone. Confused and unable to properly form a single thought, he yawned as he looked around the room for any sign that Harry had actually been there and that he hadn't been dreaming. His missing clothes were all the proof that he needed to know that the moment they shared did, in fact, happen. He hadn't imagined it — that happened. They did that.

Louis wasn't entirely sure how to feel in that moment, but he figured that he'd eventually come to terms with everything.

It had gotten darker; night time had crept in earlier in the late afternoon, as it normally did during the fall and winter seasons. Louis wasn't sure what time it was, so he couldn't exactly tell how long he'd been asleep, but given that the sun had gone down meant it must have been at least and hour or two since he last checked the time. Apparently Harry wore him out more than he thought he would have.

Not that Louis was complaining.

Sitting up and turning on the tv for light, Louis wondered where Harry was. Did he leave as soon as Louis fell asleep? Did he stay? Was he even there? Louis had so many questions he wanted to ask the silence. He knew, however, that he'd get no answers unless he got out of bed to find them for himself.

Only, he didn't feel like moving. Instead, he sat there with the tv on the lowest volume he could get it on without having to use the mute option and he stared at the closed bedroom door. Louis didn't know what waited for him on the other side and he honestly didn't want to find out. A part of him wanted to stay in bed and bask in the fact that he'd turned Harry on for the first time in months. It still felt like a dream to him.

Harry hadn't taken notice of him in such a long time that Louis had forgotten how it felt to be loved by him. It had been, once upon a time, his favorite thing. Hell, it still was his favorite thing and Louis was going to savor the fact that it happened. He wasn't going to let this one isolated incident escape him because he didn't know if he'd get to experience Harry on that level ever again.

But still, he had questions.

What happened to make Harry want him? It was so out of left field. It literally came from nowhere and Louis was curious.

Would it happen again? Louis couldn't say for sure if it would or not, but now that he'd had another taste of his husband he wanted more.

Where did that leave them? He desperately hoped that what transpired between them at least helped Harry see what he was giving up. Louis didn't mean to sound petty, but he really did want Harry to realize what he was turning his back on.

More importantly, however, Louis wondered if Harry regretted it. Did he take one look at Louis after he fell asleep and instantly feel guilty? Could one even feel guilty for cheating on their side piece? Was it even considered cheating? Louis didn't know if that was a thing, but if had to do with his husband he was pretty sure that Harry would find a way to make it a thing.

Louis could still feel Harry's lips against his skin, though there was no heat and he was slowly becoming aware of the chill in his body. He pulled the duvet up and around him, despite not actually remembering getting under it when he was still lucid enough. Maybe Harry covered him.

Before getting totally comfortable and leaning back against the headboard, he turned the lamp on that sat on the bedside table on Harry's side. The lamp had always been Harry's favorite — it was black and sported abstract, rainbow shapes that had names he couldn't even say. He never could quite understand why Harry loved it so much, but sitting there with the soft glow or light crawling out from under the shade Louis kind of felt like he knew why. It was an atmosphere thing and it matched perfectly with his mood and the questions in his head.

While he was lost in his head, Louis failed to realize that the bedroom door opened to reveal Harry, dressed in a different band tee and a different pair of worn out pajama pants. Harry stood there with his arms crossed, watching the older man as he spaced out. Louis' zoned out expression was always one of Harry's favorite.

Slowly and with more grace than he'd ever had in his life, Harry crept over to his side of the bed and sat down, bringing his legs up to stretch along the length of the bed. He leaned back, joining Louis and laying his head on his shoulder. Harry would wait — he was in no rush.

Minutes ticked by before Louis registered the warmth against his side and when he did he almost jumped. Instead, he breathed in deeply and exhaled, calming himself down enough to look over at Harry, who was looking up at him with adoration in his eyes. Something Louis hadn't seen in such a long time.

Between the look in Harry's eyes and Harry actually being there, Louis was certain he was seeing things. He thought for sure that Harry would've left. Or, at the very least, would have been upset that he was sleep and that meant he couldn't leave because Elise definitely had to be home at that point. Only, that wasn't the case, he'd come to learn.

"Hey, love," Harry said softly.

"Hey yourself," Louis whispered back.

"Did you have a good nap?" Harry asked him, sitting up. Louis immediately missed the contact between them.

Louis nodded, wringing the end of the duvet in one of his hands. "I did, yeah."

"That's good," Harry said. "I tried to wake you when I woke up, but you turned over, so I figured I'd let you sleep longer. I guess you needed it."

"I guess," Louis muttered.

He blinked in confusion, trying to remember Harry's attempt to wake him up. He couldn't recall it happening, but it sounded like something he would do. That isn't what caught his attention, though. Louis picked up on Harry saying when he woke up. His mind was reeling and he hoped that he was understanding those words correctly.

Harry fell asleep. He stayed in bed with him after they fooled around. He didn't leave him as soon as they were done.

Louis was in a small state of shock. He honestly hadn't expected that. Not in the slightest.

They sat in comfortable peace, listening to the faint sounds coming from the tv and the noises that Louis could say were Elise's noises coming from elsewhere in the house. She was either downstairs playing or in her room dancing, as she liked to do from time to time. He hadn't realized how much he missed the little normal things like this that they did on a near daily basis prior to everything going wrong, but sitting there and enjoying Harry's company, he came to realize he missed them quite a lot.

And he'd continue to miss them because he was leaving. He didn't want to go.

"Hey, Lou?" Harry called out to him, turning and placing his feet on the floor.

"Yeah?" Louis responded.

"Elise wanted to help fix dinner tonight," the younger man started, standing and turning to face Louis, "if there's anything you want then tell me because she wants homemade pizza."

"That's fine," Louis told him, looking up at Harry like he wasn't sure if he was going to disappear or not. "You always make the best, so that's okay."

Harry nodded and walked around to Louis side of the bed, where he stopped in front of his husband. Harry leaned down and cupped Louis' face in both his hands. He held him there, looking down at Louis before placing a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. It was over almost as quickly as it happened. Louis missed the feeling of Harry's mouth against his, and he wanted more.

He'd always want more.

Harry straightened back up and turned around to head for the door, stopping only to look over his shoulder and wink. "You'll need to get dressed before you come downstairs, love."

Louis couldn't stop the bubble of laughter that rose from his chest. He seriously couldn't stand Harry.


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff happens. Harry is stupid. Louis can't take it anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, i want to thank you all for reading my story or just giving it a chance, for the kudos, subscriptions and comments. thank you for the 1,000 views. i didn't think it would do well because i know a lot of people prefer happier fics, so thank you.
> 
> i'm sorry for this chapter and the change of events. this chapter sets the motion for how the next several chapters go. if its not your cup of tea, i understand. i didn't like the direction my mind went when i wrote it.
> 
> on the plus side, i'm working on a few other fics both larry and other fandoms that aren't sad lol
> 
> enjoy.

It'd been a week since Louis let Harry get the best of him during a moment of weakness. At least, that's what he called it. It wasn't supposed to happen. They weren't supposed to hook up while in the middle of getting a divorce; there had to be some kind of rule about that in the divorce handbook. 

But that's not how things worked out for Louis — he was weak when it came to Harry. He was supposed to remain at arm's length when it came to Harry, not cuddle up against him in the middle of the night while Harry whispered song lyrics into his hair. He wasn't supposed to yearn for his husband's touch now that he'd gotten another taste of it.

Louis figured he should count his blessings. Harry was back in his bed and he no longer smelled like anything other than Harry. Their family dynamic was also starting to repair itself. Elise was happier than he'd seen her in a long time. Things finally seemed to be going right for a change and, for that, Louis was grateful. He needed something good in his life.

However, Louis couldn't say if Harry had stopped seeing Kendall or not since they did work together. Whenever Louis tried to bring anything up regarding the divorce Harry would shut him down — he would become standoffish and refuse to talk to Louis. These moments led to them fighting, which would end up in heavy make-out session almost every time. Louis would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy those. The making out, not the fights, of course.

His treatments were still going on; he was still stuck somewhere between getting better and the cancer trying to take everything over again. His hair falling out was the most recent thing to come about from his treatments and that had been getting to him. Louis loved his hair. Things were more real with his hair development , as if the near constant exhaustion, nausea, hospital visits and updates on his blood cell counts weren't enough. Louis would have to start hiding his hair — or lack of it — least Harry or Elise notice and say something to him.

\- X -

"Lou? Babe?" Harry called from the family room one evening.

"What's up, H?" Louis responded.

"Can you come here for a minute?" Harry asked him, a sense of urgency present in his voice.

"Yeah, give me a sec."

Louis really didn't want to go see what he wanted. He'd been trying to avoid Harry for most of the day and had been successful until just recently when his husband decided to come downstairs to watch TV instead of just watching it in their room. This pushed him into the kitchen, where he was trying to decide on what to do for dinner. He was torn between cooking something simple or ordering take out.

"You called?" Louis asked as he entered the room.

"Yeah, uh..." Harry started, looking at him from the door on the other side of the room, the door leading to the foyer. "I want you to meet someone."

"Okay," Louis managed to get out, his voice small as he arched a brow and looked at Harry with confusion.

"Lou, this is Kendall." Harry introduced the brunette woman that stepped around the corner. "Kendall, this is Louis."

Louis' stomach dropped. He started shaking and he felt like his heart was going to explode. He could hear ringing in his ears, could feel his breathing becoming labored. Louis tried to look at her — at them — but he couldn't bring himself to. He found himself watching the floor in front of them, hoping that a hole would open up for him to jump in to. His head was swimming with thoughts and questions.

Why is she here? 

Did Harry not mean any of the time they spent together?

What's going on? 

_Why is she here_? 

What the actual fuck was going on?

Kendall, part of the reason his marriage ending, was in front of him. What was happening?

Louis could feel the tears pricking at his eyes as he stood frozen in the opposite entrance. He wanted to run, but he knew that he could do this. He had to.

"Hi, Kendall." Louis said, looking up finally. He was trying to keep his voice even as he offered her a strained smile. "I'm Louis."

"Kendall," she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. She briefly glanced up at Harry as if silently telling him that she was already over everything.

She was rude, Louis decided. She was also everything Louis imagined she would be. She had the shiniest brown hair, big eyes, and a slim frame. She was just as tall as Harry, if not a tad bit taller. She was beautiful and it wasn't hard to see why Harry picked her over him. Anyone would.

Here he was, Louis Tomlinson (sans Styles since he stopped going by his married name), short and sarcastic, battling a life threatening illness and finally meeting the woman that he had been involuntarily in a relationship with. He could definitely see why Harry wanted to toss out the old and bring in the new, and he couldn't blame him. Not at all.

"I... I forgot there's uh... there's something," Louis began, voice cracking and unable to form any type of complete thought. "I need to go."

Harry called after him as he fled the room, quickly backing up into the kitchen. Louis rushed through the kitchen and passed by them still standing in the doorway to get to the stairs. He didn't dare turn around because he couldn't face Harry with tears streaming down his face. He couldn't face him when he felt like the world's biggest fool.

He really let Harry play him like that.

Louis leaned against the farthest wall in his bathroom and curled in on himself. There were a million things running through his head and absolutely nothing made sense as he tried to calm himself down enough to call Zayn. He'd call and ask Zayn to pick him up. He couldn't stay in a house he was no longer wanted in. His time was up. He couldn't do it anymore. He would leave with Zayn and return in the morning to see Elise off; he'd tell her that goodbye didn't mean forever, that he'd talk to her later. That was it — that was how things were going down.

Louis felt like the smallest human on Earth. He felt like he didn't deserve anything that had ever gone right in his life because he wasn't the type of person good things happened to. He was that person with permanent bad luck. Louis didn't know why he started to get his hopes up. He should've known better, he told himself.

He wasn't the forever kind of person. Louis didn't deserve the forever kind of love. He was temporary and it had taken him entirely too long to figure it out. He'd wasted years for nothing and now he had to deal with Kendall sitting in his house — not his — and the stupid cancer that was mocking him and trying to send him into an early grave. Why couldn't he catch a break?

\- X -

"Lou?" Zayn's voice came through his phone.

"Zayn," he said softly, voice raw from the crying and the sobs he was trying to control.

"Are you okay, Lou? What's going on?"

"Can y-you come get me?" Louis' voice cracked. "I don't wan-wanna be here right now."

Zayn didn't ask anymore questions and told him to hold on, to be ready when he got there. Louis was grateful that Zayn didn't try to press him for information because he honestly didn't know if he would have been able to do anything after that. He was already a mess — he'd be in hysterics. He needed to make it out of the house first.

It took no time for Zayn to arrive. The text he sent saying he was outside startled Louis out of his thoughts. It was barely five minutes later that Louis emerged from the house looking worn, lost, small and beyond tired. Zayn didn't say anything when Louis got into the car and he didn't say anything during the drive to his place — he would let Louis make the first move.

They reached Zayn's before Louis decided to speak.

"She was in my house, Z." Louis whispered.

"Who?"

"Kendall. She's in my home and she's fucking perfect."

"What the fuck?" Zayn seethed, voice getting louder than he intended it to. "What in the hell is wrong with him?"

"I wish I knew..." Louis said, trailing off, gaze glued on the dashboard in front of him, "especially after the last few weeks we've shared."

Zayn blinked at this. Louis hadn't really been keeping him in the know when it came to Harry. He hadn't told anyone about the change in their relationship. Elise was convinced that there had never been anything wrong.

"What do you mean by that? What's been going on?" Zayn asked him.

"I don't know where to start. I really don't..." Louis said, bringing a hand up to wipe at the tears sliding down his cheeks. "I think it started the day we were given the news about the cancer being killed. I remember that. I was so relieved."

"I remember that, too," Zayn said. "That was an amazing day. We were all so happy, Lou."

"Yeah, me too." Louis agreed. "Though, I think I was too happy."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because, Z... it all started after I got home."


	8. Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Zayn have a more in depth heart to heart. A recap of sorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, trying to edit this story to post today hits differently because i found out this morning an old friend passed away yesterday. life is so short, so make the most of it.
> 
> i like louis and zayn together. writing them is so effortless.
> 
> there's a lot of talking and kind of heavy conversation matter.
> 
> TW: talks of suicide.
> 
> enjoy.

Louis didn't know where to start, honestly. He sat with his back against Zayn's passenger seat, his legs drawn up and the hoodie he always wore hiding his body. He was shaking; from being cold or because he was on the verge of a breakdown, Louis wasn't sure. He just knew that he didn't like feeling as if the world had turned its back on him.

He couldn't figure out what he'd done to deserve the universe treating him the way it was. Why did it give him his soul mate and then take him away? Did it enjoy laughing at him? At his ignorance for thinking that he could call Harry his own until the end. Why was he given a perfect bill of health until one day it wasn't perfect anymore? He was given a fifty percent chance of beating the cancer, but he'd been fighting as hard as he could and he hadn't given up, despite wanting to several times. He had to have pissed some greater power off.

"I don't know where to begin, Z." Louis said as he looked over at him.

"Can't help you there, but do you think you could figure out where to once we get inside?" Zayn asked. "I feel like we're going to need to be comfortable for this."

That comment earned a low, barely there chuckle from Louis. He couldn't blame his best friend. He'd want to be comfortable for a half romantic, half sob story, too.

"Okay," Louis said softly, his throat hurting from all the crying.

Zayn exited the car first and, after shutting his door, walked over to Louis' side where he opened the door for him and extended a hand out. Louis took his hand without fighting him or making some remark about not being a damsel in distress. He was in distress, though he wasn't a damsel. He just needed help. Louis didn't know if he was able get out of the car on his own.

His legs felt like jelly and he felt like he was shaking from the inside out. Louis' entire core was a complete wreck. He knew walking was going to be an issue, but that's what Zayn was for. He was there for Louis to lean on — he'd drilled that into Louis' head early on in their friendship.

"Hey, Z?" Louis called out as he stepped into the apartment a moment after Zayn unlocked the door.

"Yeah, Lou?" Zayn shouted back from the hallway where he was gathering blankets from the extra closet in case Louis got cold.

"I just..." Louis began, twisting the large sleeves of his hoodie into his fists as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. "Thank you."

Zayn cocked an eyebrow, dropping the blankets onto the coffee in front of the couch. He sat down and toed his shoes off before patting the space next to him. 

"For what?" Zayn asked him. He watched Louis sit down on the opposite end of the couch and draw his legs up, his head resting against his knees. He looked smaller than he normally did.

"Y'know, for being there." Louis said. "For being the person I've needed, for going to my hospital visits and sitting through the ups and downs. Thanks for picking me up, Z. You didn't have to, but you did because you're an amazing person."

"Come here," Zayn told him, motioning for Louis to come closer. Louis, despite not wanting to move because it pained him to do so, scooted over toward Zayn until he was able to tuck himself against the man's side. Zayn didn't hesitate to wrap an arm around him.

"Really. Thank you," he whispered.

"You don't have to thank me. I'm doing what anyone would do for a friend or someone they love," Zayn told him.

"You're doing Har—" a sob broke Louis' sentence.

Zayn held on tighter, lightly running his hand along Louis' side as his body shook with his tears. "I know, Lou, and its fucked up."

\- X -

It took at least ten minutes before Louis could gather himself. During this time Zayn left Louis to his own devices so that he could slip into the kitchen to fetch them both a glass of water. When he returned he found Louis in the same spot, his head held in his hands as he leaned forward. Zayn grabbed the top blanket from the pile on the table, a deadpool one made out of the softest material, and he draped it over Louis' shoulders before sitting back down.

"You ready to tell me?" Zayn questioned softly.

"Yeah, I think so." Louis said after several minutes.

The older man sat back against the couch, crossing his legs and wrapping the blanket around him so that it was tighter. He could do this — he could tell Zayn about how Harry had been spending more time with him, he could tell him that Harry would fire him up just to get reactions out of him. He could tell Zayn that Harry was home before four every day since they'd slept together and how they had fallen back into a proper family routine. Elise was the happiest she'd been in months and Louis, well, he'd found himself falling for Harry all over against, which he didn't want to happen.

"I told you it happened the day I got the good news," Louis started. "Well, that was the biggest thing. The words and touches started earlier, though."

"Okay," Zayn said. "Are you going to start with that day or before then?" He was honestly curious about every little thing that took place between them.

"The small things first and then the rest, if that's okay." Louis answered, tucking the blanket beneath his feet.

"That's cool."

"Okay, so... there was a day that Harry was home in the morning. I woke up earlier than normal, so I decided to get a head start on breakfast before Elise got up, but I never started it because Harry was there and it completely shocked the hell out of me. He hadn't been there in the morning for months, Z. Like... fucking months! And what was the first thing we talked about? That stupid bird feeder I begged him to put in the back yard. I didn't really want it, y'know? I just wanted to see if he'd do it. I don't think I ever told him that." Louis paused to laugh at that. He could already picture Harry's disbelief if he'd heard him admit that out loud.

Zayn shook his head, amused. That was such a Louis thing to do.

Louis sighed then. "Back on track, yeah? We stood there, not close to each other or anything, but we stood there talking and it was nice. We hadn't talked like that in a long time. I think the last time we spoke for more than a few minutes at a time was when I told him what Elise said to me."

Back on track for Louis meant that he'd continue to ramble, but Zayn took it in stride because at least he was still with the story he was trying to tell.

"But, like, one thing led to another and I zoned out, because apparently that's a thing I do a lot now. He, uh... put his arm around me? Maybe it was just his hand, but it was the first time he'd touched me in any way since the night of our anniversary. I felt like I was on top of the world because he had his fucking hand on me, Z. How pathetic, right? His. Fucking. Hand."

"That's not pathetic, Louis. He's your husband and he was finally giving you some kind of physical affection. There's nothing wrong with feeling the way you did," Zayn said.

"If you say so," Louis shot back. "Anyway, Elise saw us together and saw Harry there. It made her day. She had just woken up and come downstairs to find him still home. It was amazing. The three of us were in one room at the same time and Elise was so happy. The smile on her face that day made up for the rest of it after she left because it was worth seeing her smile. I don't think she'd seen him in a week or something before then. He was never home."

Louis caught himself smiling softly at the memory and Elise's happiness that day. "They spent the morning cooking breakfast. It was just like old times. They weren't singing or dancing like they used to do, but it was like they were learning how to be around one another again and it was just... I don't know. It was beautiful to watch them move together and it gave me a little bit of hope that maybe things will be alright if I don't beat this. I mean, he's going to be the only one there for her to turn to and they need to bond again. She's only going to have him, Z. Oh, God. I can't..."

A loud cry tore itself from Louis' chest as tears began to fall. His small body, wrapped in the bright red blanket Zayn provided, shook uncontrollably. He literally felt like he was going to fall to pieces and that there would be nothing to put back together. Louis tried to be strong, but there were times where he reminded himself that not surviving was a possible outcome.

"Lou, baby," Zayn murmured, rubbing small circles against his back. "It'll be okay."

It took him a few minutes to calm down enough to talk again. Louis couldn't remember ever being such an emotional wreck, but he figured it came with everything — it came with the territory.

"Okay?" Zayn asked when Louis' sobs turned into whimpers.

"Yeah," Louis said, reaching for his glass of water sitting idly on the coffee table and taking a sip. "Where was I?"

"Uh... the day Harry was there," Zayn said, even though Louis wasn't actually asking for an answer.

"That day was a good day, aside from when Harry tried to say I didn't fight hard enough for us or some shit. I don't really remember whatever the fuck it was he tried to accuse me of." Louis rolled his eyes at that memory. It pissed him off that Harry had the balls to say that it was his fault. Harry really tried to blame him for them not being able to stay afloat when it was Harry that threw him overboard with a half ass life jacket. Sink or swim, and damn it, he was sinking.

"We had good days."

"Did you?" Zayn inquired.

"Mhm," Louis hummed, lost in his thoughts. "There was a day when I was in the living room watching TV one morning and I didn't realize he was still home until he walked into the room with just his boxers on, yawning and rubbing his eyes. He'd just woken up and it was fucking adorable. I swear, a twenty nine year old man shouldn't be considered adorable, but he was and I absolutely loved it. Harry sat down and curled up against me, his head on my shoulder. At some point he grabbed my hand and started playing with my fingers like he used to be before we'd fall asleep. I felt like I had my Harry back. Things felt perfect for a moment. But, y'know, he had to ruin it days later by opening his mouth and saying something fucking stupid."

Zayn couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips at how quick Louis' mood changed. "What did he say?"

"I don't remember now, but I think it was something along the lines of he couldn't wait until we could stop pretending. I mean, he asked that morning with Elise when we were going to stop, so I should've expected him to bring it up again, but I didn't. Stupid me. Harry said that he wanted it to be done with because he couldn't stand being in the same room anymore."

Louis got quiet, the memories of everything Harry said to him were too loud and he couldn't concentrate on a single thought.

"I... Zayn," he started, voice soft and barely above a whisper, "I don't know what I didn't to make him feel that way. If he'd told me what I did wrong I could've fixed it, y'know? Maybe I could've worked on myself or tried to save our marriage, but he didn't give me any hints that something was wrong. I still don't know what I did. In the beginning I blamed myself. I still do sometimes. Have I ever told you that?"

Louis looked at Zayn in time to see him shaking his head.

"Yeah. I beat myself up over it for a while. I blamed myself for Harry's distance. When he started coming home with lipstick stains on his shirt and smelling like cheap perfume, I thought I did something wrong."

"You didn't do anything, Lou. He's just an asshole."

"See, I didn't realize that at first, but maybe if I had I could've told myself that I was an independent woman that don't need no man."

"What the fuck." Zayn blinked, laughing at Louis' stupidity.

"What? I thought it was funny." Louis huffed. A ghost of a smile was playing on his face. He needed to joke about things at some point or he would stop feeling like himself.

"It was," Zayn agreed, "but after the shit you've been through today I didn't think you'd be up for jokes."

"Laughter is the best medicine, Z." Louis told him as if he were stating facts.

"Agreed, but let's continue."

Louis leaned against him, his back pressed against Zayn's side as he took hold of one of his very tattooed arms. He traced the ink on his skin as he thought about what he wanted to tell him next. It hit him like a truck full of bricks as he compared his hand against Zayn's to see who had the bigger hand.

"A few days before the big event, as I like to call it, Elise was talking to Harry in our room about Christmas and what she wanted. Elise said she didn't want anything because she had what she needed — we were all together again. I was in the bathroom putting my pajamas on since it was getting close to her bedtime and relaxation time for me. I heard Elise ask him if he was happy with us and I was surprised when he said yes. He told her that he couldn't imagine being anywhere else than at home with us. I thought my heart was going to burst because that's not what I expected him to say, especially when it was just the two of us later that night."

Zayn nodded silently, following along as Louis took a quick breather and a sip of his water before talking again.

"Harry... he convinced me to let him back into my room because he claimed Elise might get curious about our sleeping arrangements, so I agreed. That night after she went to bed, he was telling me all about their conversation and he told me that he really couldn't see himself anywhere else. That... that's his home and we're his family. He said he didn't want to lose that, but actions speak louder than words. He fucked up by bringing her into my house. Shit, not my house, his house."

"Louis, that's your house just as much as it is his," Zayn said. "You turned that house into a home. That's your house and I don't care what anyone says."

"Thanks, love."

"You don't have to thank me for telling the truth," he responded.

At some point Louis found himself laying down on the couch, one blanket acting as a pillow as he lay with his head in Zayn's lap. He'd gotten comfortable the more they talked; the more Zayn listened.

"The day of the good news, we kind of... uh, hooked up." Louis could literally feel a blanket of awkward silence fall over the room as Zayn struggled to take in what he'd said.

"The fuck do you mean? How do you kind of hook up?" Zayn asked with an eyebrow raised.

"I was at home laying in bed, Harry came home and things happened. I know you don't like to hear about my sex life, but it was amazing. I hadn't gotten off in such a long time and he was there, touching, wanting and I couldn't say no because I wanted it. We both did. I swear, I could have died happily that day because Harry, my fucking husband, paid attention to me in a way that I thought would never happen again. We were where we were supposed to be. We were Harry and Louis; two people wanting to be together in the way only we knew how to with each other. It felt amazing. Harry always had a think about face fucking, but he let me do it and come on his face. I swear to you, Zayn, it was the hottest thing I'd ever seen in my life. I'd forgotten all about his kink for that until it was all over."

"The fuck. Ugh, no. Too much, Lou." Zayn said, his voice and face displaying how disgusted he was.

"It's never too much." Louis deadpanned.

"Real talk. Why'd you do it? I mean, like, with how messed up things are."

"See, that's the thing — they weren't messed up. We'd been getting along and I guess that was just what tipped the scale. It was natural, being with Harry. It was like talking or sleeping and it was outstanding. Even after that things were good. Harry'd come home early, we would cook dinner together, share small touches that would turn into small kisses and then into full blown make out sessions. And, I shit you not, Z. At night sometimes, before he would fall asleep and I guess when he thought I was already sleeping, he would say that he loves me."

"That doesn't make sense, Lou. If he loves you then why would he have her in your house?"

"I don't know. I didn't stick around to find out. I had to get out of there."

"Did he try to stop you from running?"

"Yeah? Maybe? I don't know. I was too busy trying not to trip and panic as I ran up the stairs to get away." Louis said, tilting his head back and looking up at Zayn. "I don't think I would've listened to him anyway because having her in my home was fucked up. I don't know If I'll ever be able to forgive him for that."

"I don't think I'd want to forgive him," Zayn said.

Louis pondered that one for a moment. Did he even want to forgive Harry for that? He'd be stupid to.

"Louis," the younger man began, "how was yesterday? Like, did anything bad happen to make him bring her over?"

"Not that I'm aware? Yesterday, we... uh, laid in bed until he had to go to work, which he ended up late because, well, let's just say if Harry's boss hadn't called him then I'd be happy as fuck right now." Louis was still mad at his boss for calling while they were getting ready to have sex.

"Things weren't any different," Louis said, turning over onto his side so that he was facing the room. "Harry came home around the same time he usually does, but this time he had flowers with him. I thought they were for Elise, but they were for me. While we waited for Elise, we spent the time together — I don't think I'd ever felt so loved. We kissed, laughed and most of the time we cuddled, talking about things. He kind of hinted that he didn't want to end things and I stupidly believed him."

Zayn knew there was more to what Harry said. "What did he say exactly?"

"He said that as long as nothing came between us there was no reason we shouldn't be together, but then this happened. He ruined us. He let her ruin a good thing and I have no idea why. I guess it doesn't matter now, though. I'm not going to be here much longer anyways."

"Lou, you have to stop thinking like that. You're going to beat this and you're going to walk back into that house when everything is over. You're going to let Elise know you didn't leave her because you didn't want her, but because you were sick and you didn't want her to see you that way."

Louis' sniffles didn't go unnoticed. "What am I going to do about Harry?"

"You're not going to do anything about Harry because he fucked up. He let this happen to you guys, so its his problem. You deserve so much more than he's willing to give you and I'm sorry that it didn't work out because you were — you are — perfect, but sometimes perfect doesn't mean forever. You deserve to find your forever, Louis."

"Thank you," Louis whispered, changing his position so that he was facing Zayn. He buried his face against Zayn's stomach, bunching up the man's white t-shirt with in the palm of one hand. Louis thought he was past crying because it felt like he had no more tears left, but he was wrong when silent tears fell from his eyes. He tried to apologize to Zayn for getting his shirt wet, but he shushed him and he ran a hand through Louis' hair, whispering small words of comfort to his best friend.

Zayn knew it was more than Harry bringing Kendall into their house. Louis loved Harry and this was the second time in the span of months that he'd broken his heart. He was afraid of what was coming when he went back to his mom's until they could get his cancer into remission. Louis was scared of the future and what would happen to Elise — how she would handle his absence. Zayn knew that it was a build up of multiple things eating at Louis and he could only do so much for him. He could only be so strong for him; the rest was up to Louis. He had to want to win this battle and he had to be strong for himself.

"Zayn?"

"Yeah?"

"Promise me you won't tell anyone this, please." Louis said, almost pleading.

"Um, okay. I promise." Zayn responded, confusion lacing his tone.

"A few weeks ago, when they told me that I wasn't getting better, I... uh," Louis paused to sit up. He rubbed at his face and looked at Zayn with red, puffy eyes. "I tried to kill myself."

"W-what? Why?" Zayn's voice cracked.

"You weren't in the room with me, but the doctor... he said that there was less than a forty percent chance that I'd go into remission." Louis whispered. "I didn't know what to do anymore after learning that, despite all my fighting and the treatment, I wasn't getting any better. As soon as I was dropped off I went straight to my room and made a cocktail out of different pills. They had me on so much stuff and a lot of it can be deadly if mixed and taken at one time. So, that's what I did. That's what I was trying to do. It obviously didn't work."

Zayn was afraid to ask, but he had to. "What happened?"

"Harry... he happened. He came home before I could take them all. I could've just tossed them back all at once before he got upstairs, but I didn't want to die in the room with him. I wanted to be alone. I would've rather been found after it happened."

Louis was staring off into space after telling Zayn. He had never been a weak person, but his depression had gotten so bad that he couldn't put it into words. He didn't tell anyone because he thought nothing could be done. It's not like it would've made a difference anyway. The cancer was killing him and Harry had proved (back then, when this took place) that he didn't care about him.

They may have gotten better over time, their relationship growing stronger and they may have had a few good weeks together, but Harry chose her. He still picked Kendall, a home wrecking tramp, over him.

"What if Elise had been the one to find you?" Zayn asked.

"I don't know, Z. I honestly don't know. I wasn't thinking that far ahead. I just wanted to end it all." Louis answered him truthfully. "I'm tired, Zayn. I'm so fucking tired of fighting all the time. My body is at war with itself and there's nothing I can do to help it and the man I'm in love with wants nothing to do with me because his new supermodel girlfriend means the world to him. I just want it to stop. I want to sleep, Zayn. I don't want to do this anymore. Is that too much to ask for?"

"Louis, I want you to listen to me." Zayn began, reaching out and gently grabbing Louis' chin between his thumb and pointer finger, forcing Louis to look at him. "I don't care how many times I have to tell you this before you want to listen — you're going to beat this. You're not giving up. You will go into remission, you will come home to Elise, who will be there crying tears of happiness because you, her Papa, came home. You'll come home, perhaps not to that home, but you'll make a new one and you'll thank Harry for taking care of Elise. Maybe you'll still love him and that'll be fine. Maybe he'll still love you and maybe you guys will overcome this, but you won't know if you give up now. You need to stay strong."

Louis could only nod, tears cascading down his cheeks as he reached forward and buried his face against Zayn's neck. Louis' body trembled as waves of emotional turmoil crashed over him and what was left of his heart tried to repair itself.

He wasn't broken because his marriage was, he wasn't weak because of the cancer, he wasn't trash because Harry no longer wanted him.

He was loved, wanted and treasured. Maybe not by the person he wanted, but someone would one day be his forever. Louis was a fighter and he could get through anything.


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis goes home to say his farewell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, thank you all for still being here. i appreciate it.
> 
> in case anyone is curious, i don't have an update schedule because i'm bad at sticking to schedules and i work full time, so the best times for me to post are on my days off. because of this so i try to stick to every 2 to 3 days. tuesday and thursday are my off days, so they're the days i will be for sure post and sometimes on sunday because i get off work earlier than the rest of the week.
> 
> this chapter is kinda meh. i don't like it much. its kinda sad, but like not really? idk. maybe its the music i listen to while editing that makes me sad lol
> 
> enjoy.

The following morning woke them up bright and early. His phone read that he had six missed calls and a string of text messages, but he didn't care about that. He only cared about the time, which read that it was barely six in the morning. 

Louis didn't feel like being awake, but the early time gave him a little extra time to collect himself and hope that everything he told Zayn stayed between them. He wanted to go back to sleep. His plans for the day had other ideas and if he wanted things to go as smoothly as possible he needed to take the first step — actually getting out of bed.

He had secrets to share; ones that he'd been carrying with him for far too long. He wasn't ready to lay everything out on the table, but he needed to. Louis had things he desperately needed Harry to know, especially since he wasn't going to be giving him a proper farewell. No, he was saving that for Elise. She would be only one that he'd say goodbye to. She was innocent and needed to know that she hadn't done anything wrong to make him leave. He had no idea how he was going to tell her, but he would.

He would do it the same way he would beat his cancer.

Louis rolled over in Zayn's bed, bunching up the extra blanket he slept with and stretching. The movement was very cat like and it made Zayn stir, flipping over so that they faced one another. Louis couldn't help but stare at him. Zayn was a very beautiful man and Louis knew that Liam was lucky to have him. Hell, anyone would be lucky to have him. Louis would be lying if he hadn't found himself crushing on his best friend when they were young and dumb in high school.

"Z, wake up." Louis whispered, reaching a hand out to gently shake him. Zayn groaned in response.

Zayn was one of the hardest people to wake up and Louis knew this, but he couldn't find it in himself to wake the man violently like he used to. There had been a time when Louis had no cares and wouldn't hesitate to push Zayn out of the bed or dump water on him — he would do anything to wake him. But now? It was a different story. 

Zayn stayed up all night with him, listening to Louis talk about everything. They talked more about Louis' time with Harry and how easy it was to love Harry, they spoke of their happier times before things got out of hand, Zayn talked to him about Liam (which excited Louis). Zayn really deserved to sleep a bit more, but he had to get home.

"Zayn, c'mon." Louis tried again. He sat up this time and reached out to run a hand through Zayn's hair. Zayn leaned into the touch as he scooted closer to Louis and to his warmth. "I have to get home, so you need to wake up, love."

"Mm, don't wanna," Zayn mumbled.

"I need you to," Louis said softly. "C'mon, being awake isn't all bad."

Zayn opened one eye to look at him. "Time?"

"Just after six the last time I checked." Louis told him, removing his hand from Zayn's hair because he was likely to put him back to sleep.

"Nooo," Zayn whined, his voice rough, as Louis pulled away. "That felt good. Come back."

"You'll go back to sleep." Louis shook his head with a low chuckle.

"So? Sleep is good."

"I know, but so is seeing Elise before I leave."

Zayn watched Louis, his shoulders sinking with his words. He saw how Louis tried to hide himself by pulling the deadpool blanket around him.

"I'm sorry," Zayn whispered.

"It happens."

"When do you need to be back? What time does Harry leave?" Zayn asked, turning over so that he was facing the ceiling. The black comforter they shared was falling off his body to reveal that he'd taken off his shirt in the middle of the night. Louis wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was slightly jealous of Zayn for that. He hated wearing clothes when he slept.

"He usually leaves just after Elise catches the bus, so around nine." Louis answered.

"What time should I come back to get you?"

"Ten-ish? That should give me time to do what I need to." Louis said. Zayn nodded before pushing himself up so that he was sitting up right.

They remained in bed for another thirty minutes before officially getting up. Louis was already dressed to go because he hadn't brought anything with him but his phone the day before. Zayn, however, took a little time. He always wanted to look his best, regardless of what plans he had for the day. Once Zayn reappeared wearing his trademark outfit of black everything, they were ready to go.

The ride back to Louis' — Harry's — house was anything but silent. Zayn knew that if he let Louis sit and stir things would be ten times worse when he got inside. Louis was already nervous about telling Elise goodbye, even though she wasn't aware as of yet that it would be the last time she'd see him for some time. Zayn got Louis to talk about his plan to tell Harry everything.

Zayn asked him what he was planning on doing with his car while he was gone, to which Louis told him that he just planned on leaving it in the driveway. He wouldn't be driving anywhere any time soon, so realistically he didn't see a point in having it with him. That was one of the reasons why Zayn was taking him back to his mom's house two hours away. He wasn't going to need it, so there was no harm in letting it take up space in Harry's driveway until he came back to get it. Otherwise, he'd send Zayn to get his car if he caught wind that Harry was trying to get rid of it.

When they pulled up outside the modest two story house with vines growing up one side of the red bricks, Louis felt his body tense. This was it; he was doing this.

"Take your time, Lou." Zayn said, squeezing his knee. "It'll be fine."

Louis knew it would be, but he didn't know how he was supposed to walk back into that house after being away all night. He could deal with Elise being upset at him for not being home and he knew a little sweet talk could go a long way, but his major concern was Harry. How was he supposed to have this life changing, important as hell conversation with him after being gone all night? Most of the time he'd get to talk would be spent with Harry getting ready for work and when he wasn't doing that, it would be breakfast and his talk with Elise before she got on the bus. Louis didn't really put much thought into it.

"Okay, I'm good." Louis said, more so to himself than to Zayn. "I can do this."

"Good luck," Zayn offered when Louis straightened his back, grabbed the door handle and opened the door. 

"Thanks, Z." Louis said softly.

It was on that note that Louis stepped out of the car into the morning air and shut the door, pausing briefly before making his way to the house. Zayn idled in the driveway until he saw Louis enter.

The house was eerily quiet, which in itself wasn't that weird, but he didn't like it much. The house had become more lively over the last couple of weeks, mainly due to them getting along again. Their house felt warmer, it had been brought back to life — it felt like a proper home. But, as Louis stood in the foyer and took in the house without turning a light on and only the sunlight creeping through the curtains, he couldn't help the shiver that went up his spine.

He'd miss this house. It would be impossible not to after he'd been living there for more than a decade. He had moved in six months into their relationship. Louis would miss the worn table beside him in the foyer that housed random knick-knacks. Harry placed a hideous banana statue on it, claiming it gave the entry way more character. Louis hated the damn thing and often thought about breaking it, but he would be lying if he said he wouldn't miss looking at every single day.

Louis ran his hand along the pale yellow wall of the hallway as he walked past the stairs and door leading into the living room. Pictures of them lined the wall in mismatched frames — his favorite being the one where Elise was barely three years old. They were at the beach and Elise had been wrapped in a bright pink towel as she napped against Harry's chest. Harry had his arms around her tiny body, holding her close and beaming up at Louis when he noticed that his husband was taking pictures of them.

There weren't many pictures of them together because they'd been replaced once Elise entered their lives, but the biggest picture in the center of their collection was from the day they got married. Their wedding hadn't been huge because they didn't have enough money at the time since they were saving up to adopt a child (that would later be their daughter), but they'd never been happier. Harry had just finished cutting the cake and Louis took the opportunity to smash the slice in his face. That's when the picture was taken. It wasn't a traditional wedding photo of them in tuxedos and posed — no, it was a picture that captured who they were. Harry with marbled cake and white icing stuck to his face, green eyes wide as Louis laughed at him.

The memories that came flooding back as he walked towards the kitchen were a welcomed surprise. Louis thought that he would've been bitter about coming back into the house after the previous day, but that wasn't the case. In fact, he felt more at peace than he had in a long time. He told himself that he could actually do this as he stepped over the threshold into the kitchen, where they never bought new furniture. Harry liked the table that his mom left behind, its dark wood and six chairs that were really uncomfortable unless a cushion was being used. They painted the room at Louis' request because the white walls were boring and he wanted something more. He eventually settled on a very light green color, insisting the cabinets be painted white. 

They made it work. It was theirs.

Or, well, it was Harry's now.

Louis was so lost in thought after he'd made his way over to the window to watch the birds that he didn't hear Harry creep into the room behind him. It wasn't until he felt a pair of arms snake around his waist and a broad chest against his back that he realized he wasn't by himself. Louis turned his head to the side to look at Harry over his shoulder.

"You're home," Harry whispered.

"Mhm," Louis hummed, gently placing one hand a top Harry's, his arm resting against his husband's arm.

"What happened yesterday?" Harry asked him as if he hadn't been there. Louis hated it when he acted like he was stupid. He'd already ruined the mood by opening his mouth to ask.

"I had some things to take care of," Louis answered him, avoiding the truth but keeping Harry from wanting to push for more.

"Ah."

"Yeah." Louis muttered, twisting around so that he was facing Harry.

"Must've been really important since you walked out when a guest was over," Harry said, glancing down at him.

And, okay, wow. Really? Was this actually happening?

"Oh, yeah. You know, things that had to be done alone." Louis said.

"Like what?"

"Uh... like finding a place to live, for one." Louis told him. That was one of the bottom things on his to-do list, actually. He wouldn't tell Harry that, though.

"What? Why?"

"You don't expect me to live here after the divorce is finalized, do you? Honestly, Harry." Louis shook his head and pushed Harry away with what little strength he had. "I didn't know you were that stupid."

"... 'm not stupid," Harry grumbled, his arms dropping to his side.

"You must be if you thought I was going to stay here," Louis nearly spat. He looked up at Harry, blue meeting green. Louis could see something flash across Harry's face and the pain in his eyes. The way Harry's shoulders sagged, reminiscent of the night Louis realized things had changed, caught him off guard. Had he really...?

"I mean..." Harry gulped, tearing his gaze from Louis' and hanging his head.

"Why would I want to live somewhere I'm not wanted? Do you even realize how dumb that sounds, Harry? You made the decision to divorce me, that means you don't want me anymore and I certainly can't stay, let alone live, in that kind of environment."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but the words never came. The only sound he made was a quiet, defeated sigh when they heard Elise coming down the stairs. Harry stared at him for a moment before turning around to greet their child as she entered the room.

"Good morning," Harry said, forcing himself to smile.

"Hi, Daddy!" she said, much too loudly for almost eight in the morning.

Louis couldn't help the dull throbbing in his chest as he watched her. He took in how her blonde curls bobbed when she spoke excitedly to him, noticed how her eyes widened the minute she realized he was standing behind Harry. The smile on her face was bigger than the sun and she looked stunning.

"Papa!" Elise shouted, running towards them and nearly barreling Harry over.

"Hi, little love." Louis said with a watery smile.

"I missed you last night, Papa." she told him as she latched onto him, gripping the back of his shirt.

"I missed you too, baby." Louis responded, the first real truth to come out of his mouth since he'd been home. Louis wrapped his arms around her, bending slightly to make it less awkward. He looked up to see Harry watching them with a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Harry looked sad and that shocked him. 

What did Harry have to be sad about?

Harry broke their moment when he told Elise to figure out what she wanted for breakfast. And, like most days, she wanted pancakes. The only difference was that she asked for him to use sprinkles and chocolate chips because that sounded like a good combination. Harry obliged, asking Louis if he had any special requests. Louis simply shook his head.

Louis took his spot at the table, not bothering to make himself a cup of coffee since he'd been awake for a while. He watched them work together. It would never cease to amaze him. They were a team and Louis couldn't imagine them never not being one. Maybe leaving Elise with him wouldn't be that bad — perhaps his worries had been for nothing. They were made for each other.

It broke his heart and made it swell with pride all at once as he watched them. It would be the last time he'd get to see them together in God knows how long. He was glad their last morning was spent as a family and not fighting like he thought would happen. Louis was almost convinced that Harry wanted to start arguing with him before Elise showed up and that probably would have made things worse and much harder for him.

Louis did little talking as they ate. Harry and Elise talked about everything and, on a few occasions, Louis saw Harry watching him. He couldn't quite figure out what was going on in Harry's mind, but he was curious. At one point, Louis answered a rather hard riddle Elise gave them. Harry smiled that for Louis' eyes only smile and it had Louis wanting to melt onto the floor.

The previous day still sat in the back of his mind as he watched them eat, finish and declare that it was time to get dressed. Elise was the first to leave, hugging them both for good measure and bouncing up the stairs. Harry hung back for a moment, his gaze lingering on Louis as the older man left the room and walked up the stairs, Harry not far behind him.

"Do you think we have time to talk?" Harry asked him as he shut the bedroom door.

Louis turned around to face him. "Probably not. Why?"

"I need to tell you something, Lou." Harry said quietly.

"Okay..."

"It's going to be long, so that's why I wanted to know if you think we have enough time."

"Probably not, H." Louis told him. "But, I'll be here when you get home, so we can talk then. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Harry answered, nodding and sounding relieved.

Louis took that as his cue to leave the room. He walked down the hall to Elise's room, passing by the things he'd brought for the house that screamed his name. He would have to come back for some of this stuff because he liked it. Harry could have the rest, but he didn't want to leave it all.

He knocked on her door — a banner reading the _princess lives here_ staring at him as she shouted for him to hold on. Louis took the time to reflect on himself and the things he had prepared to say to her. He had to make sure he was saying the right things for her to understand. He needed her to understand.

When she opened the door all his preparations went out the window. She stood before him in an outfit he'd picked for her the last time they went shopping. It was getting closer to Christmas and she'd taken to wearing something holiday themed every single day. Today was no different as she stood in front of him wearing a dress that resembled a candy cane. She'd put on a pair of white leggings underneath and black flats. Louis couldn't help it when he took his phone from his back pocket and asked her to pose for him. She giggled and thought it was the best thing in the world — having her picture taken was one of her favorite things. 

Louis planned on holding onto this picture because it would be his reminder of what to live for. She needed him to beat this. He needed him to.

"Elise," Louis started, walking into her room and taking a seat on the day bed Harry bought her the previous year. It was white, the duvet pink, and enough pillows and stuffed animals to get lost in.

"Yes, Papa?"

"Come here," he instructed and she obeyed. "I want to tell you something, okay? It has to stay between us."

"Like a secret?" Elise asked. "I like secrets! I'm the best secret holder, Papa!"

"Yeah, baby, a secret." Louis told her.

"Okay! What is it?" she questioned, leaning in and expecting him to whisper it to her. Because, really, that's how secrets were typically shared. Louis watched her sit down next to him, eyes bright and eager to learn this secret.

"I love you. You know that, right?" he asked.

"Course, Papa! I know that!" she exclaimed.

"Okay, good, because I do. Very, very much. You're my entire world, baby and I want you to know that." Louis said, his voice trembling and his heart trying to beat out of his chest. She tilted her head to the side and looked at him weird. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me, Elise. To us. I don't want you to ever think that it's your fault when something happens, okay?"

Louis breathed in deeply, continuing, "I know you don't understand where I'm coming from, but I love you so much and I always will. You're my reason to fight, love. You're my everything and I don't think I could imagine my life without you in it. I need you to be good for Daddy, baby. I also need you to not forget that I love you more than anything in this world."

Louis had avoided looking at her as he spoke, afraid that it would make him lose his cool and that he'd break down in front of her. When he finally found the courage to look, he hadn't expected to see tears in her eyes as she played with the hem of her dress.

"Oh, baby." Louis cooed, leaning forward and taking her into his arms. "Don't cry."

"I love you, Papa." Elise said softly against his chest and it took everything in him not to cry.

Louis lost track of time as they sat in her butterfly themed room. He was listening to her talk about things she was doing in school and how excited she was over the extra two days they got for winter break. Elise told him about the things she wanted them to do during her vacation — what holiday movies she wanted to watch and when she wanted to watch them, how many marshmallows she wanted in her homemade hot chocolate, and what she wanted Santa to bring her (even though she told Harry that she only wanted them together as a family). Louis could listen to her talk for hours and he would've done just that if she didn't have school.

It was when Harry interrupted them that they realized she only had five minutes left before she had to be outside for the bus. Louis was glad the bus picked her up from her house because it gave him extra time to be with her. They exited her room with Elise skipping the steps as her parents behind her.

They watched her run out of the house after a quick shout that she'd see them after school. Harry, like most days they saw her off, wrapped an arm around Louis' waist and just held him like nothing happened. The pair watched her bus disappear down the road before Harry released him.

Harry turned to face him and Louis arched an eyebrow. Harry brought a hand up to the side of his face, his thumb caressing his cheek as he leaned down to capture Louis' lips. Louis wrapped his arms around his husband, pulling him closer and leaning up into the kiss. He didn't think he'd ever get over kissing Harry. Louis was in love with the way their lips fit together. He desperately hoped that this kiss was able to portray everything he was feeling.

Harry reluctantly pulled back with a happy sigh, letting his hand linger on Louis' cheek for a moment longer before he stepped towards the door. Louis had to admit, as far as goodbyes went, this was probably one of the better ones he'd ever experienced. It could have been much worse, especially if he'd been able to address everything with his husband.

"I'll see you later, Lou." Harry told him as he walked out the door with a small wave.

"Bye, H." Louis called after him, touching his lips. They still tingled.

For once he wasn't thinking about how he wasn't in the clear or about the uncertainties of the future. He was thinking about how things would be when he came back. When he came home cancer free.


	10. Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis takes his exit, leaving Harry behind with one final gift and an explanation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the story has passed over 100 kudos and that makes me so happy. i know that's not a lot to some people, but it is to me.
> 
> sorry this chapter is so short, but i didn't want to take away from the feeling of the next chapter because that's ultimately the reason i wrote the story in the first place, so i broke the chapters into 2 separate ones.
> 
> tw: a sentence about suicide.
> 
> enjoy.

Preparing to uproot one's entire life for any amount of time was much harder than he thought it would be. Louis called Zayn and asked that he pick him a little later than the original time he told him because he still had a lot to do before he felt ready to leave. The most important thing being telling Harry everything. Granted, he'd gone to work and wasn't actually there to talk to, but Louis decided that he would write it out as a letter and leave it with the divorce papers Harry had stopped asking him about.

Louis momentarily wondered if he'd forgotten about them or if he thought Louis had. Either way, he would be signing every single one of the documents inside the folder still laying in his bedside table and leaving it on the bed for Harry to find when he got home.

It was a cop out — a cowardice way to tell Harry everything he wanted to say and sign the papers, but Louis didn't care. He was actually slightly relieved that he wouldn't be talking to his husband face to face because he wasn't sure how Harry would react. Louis didn't need Harry's anger right before going on one of the biggest adventures of his life.

A single suitcase sat on top of the bed as Louis tore through the room for clothes to wear that wouldn't fall of his frame. He'd lost a decent amount of weight and, while he wasn't entirely sure he'd be wearing much of his personal clothes, he still wanted familiar items from home. He really didn't have a clue as to what in patient people wore. Was it the gown all the time? Would be even be allowed to wear his own clothes? Was his fretting over what to pack pointless?

He didn't know and he didn't care, honestly. He was taking some of them and would find out once he got there.

Louis fit most of what he deemed worthy into his suitcase, but decided on wearing the last sweater he was taking with him. It belonged to Harry and he'd always loved it. Harry would probably look for it since it was fairly warm, but Louis would have the lavender sweater with him in the hospital. It was the only thing he was taking that belonged to Harry.

The suitcase eventually made its way down to the foyer where it would wait for Louis to leave. Louis took his favorite pillow with him just for good measure.

That left Louis with the last thing on his list to do. Write the letter. He didn't know where to start or what to even say. Until deciding, however,he would lay sprawled out on the bed with a notebook in front of him, words resting and waiting on the tips of his fingers.

Louis figured he should start from the beginning — that felt like a good place. He didn't want to, though. He needed to do something different, write something to keep Harry's undivided attention until the very last word. He hoped that a hand written letter would capture all of his attention anyway, but like any story went, he needed a catching opening line. With that thought, he simply started off with _Thank you for playing pretend_.

Once the first sentence had been written, Louis found it was much easier to write whatever was on his mind. He tried not to jump topics too much, but he was sure he slipped up a few times. That was fine, though. He was getting his thoughts out there and Harry needed to hear them.

He wrote about when they first got together, their marriage and adopting Elise. He wrote about the happy moments first, explaining some in detail and others not, and telling Harry that he loves him dearly. He always would. He needed Harry to know this, even if Harry no longer felt the same way toward him.

Louis wrote about the first night Harry came home smelling like a whore house with bright red lipstick on his shirt. He told him how for weeks he thought he did something to make Harry push him away, that it was his fault Harry no longer looked at him like the man he loved and more like an inconvenience he was stuck with. Louis tried to explain with detail how he felt the night of their anniversary when he realized that his very male body no longer did it for his husband — he was hurt, ashamed, afraid and wondering who this woman was.

Louis told him that he knew it was Kendall; he wasn't stupid. He'd seen her name pop up on Harry's phone several times before Harry started missing from their home. It had become a family unit of two, just him and Elise. He told Harry about that, too. How disappointed he was in him as a man and father figure for putting this woman before his daughter.

He expressed interest in hoping that Harry would tell him what he did wrong because even though he no longer thinks what happened is his fault, he's still curious and would like to know what he did wrong. He told Harry not to hold back. If he got hurt, then so be it. He'd hurt him enough already, so he was used to it. As sad as that was to say.

Louis then went on to tell him what it felt like falling in love for a second time with a man he'd never fallen out of love with. He talked about how Harry was coming back to him and how he would be forever grateful for that. He really needed that little bit of positivity, he'd written, though he could have done without the harsh words thrown at him in times when Harry was angry for no reason.

He'd write about when they had sex for the first time in months and that he felt loved. In his letter would be sweet nothings, words of love and what Louis would expect to happen when he saw Harry again.

He told him how he felt when Kendall was in his house and that he left last night because he couldn't bare the idea of Harry telling him that the last few weeks were all lies. He was afraid, he admitted this to the paper and he hoped his fear would come across the way he wanted it to. It was important to him that Harry knew Louis felt like his world had stopped when he saw her in his house.

The last few paragraphs would be about how sick he is.

That he has cancer and he couldn't tell Harry because he couldn't expect him to be there for him. Louis wrote that he was scared when the doctors told him they didn't think he would live — he told him that he tried to kill himself. Louis wrote to him about how it felt to harbor that kind of secret, but the support system he had between his family and Zayn was all that he needed.

Louis explained that he didn't want to take away Harry's little bit of happiness by telling him about the cancer. If he got to be happy in the arms of another while he suffered, then so be it because his shoulders were strong and he could carry anything on them. Harry's affair had been a testament to that until he got sick.

Louis asked that Harry explain to Elise what's going on so she doesn't think she messed up the way Harry let him think he messed up. He wants her to know that she can call her Grandma Jay for direct information on him or to even talk to him, but makes it a note to tell Harry that Jay won't give him any information because he no longer has that right since he changed his power of attorney out of fear that Kendall would say just kill him.

Louis then thanks him for playing pretend a second time and for making him feel loved over last few weeks that they'd been a family again. He thanks him for the kisses, the memories, the goodbye that really wasn't a goodbye so much as a kiss and a loosely based promise to talk about everything later. He says he sorry he lied to him — he had no intention of being there when Harry got home from work.

The ending, the last line, Louis thinks is fitting because it's what Harry wanted all along. Its perfect, he thinks as he writes out _I signed the papers_ and signs a simple _Always, Louis Tomlinson_ at the bottom with a poorly drawn heart.


	11. Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry ends things and finds out Louis left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, hi. second post today.
> 
> i got my chapters mixed up with this one and the next chapter, but this chapter is one that i really like because it shows a little insight to how harry feels. just a tiny bit. the next chapter is louis' letter and i might post that too if i have time or if i don't drink too much while editing. haha.
> 
> i apologize.
> 
> enjoy.

Harry couldn't stop watching the clock as it ticked down the hours until he could leave. 

He'd been waiting from the moment he stepped foot into his office to go home. Hell, since he got into his car to leave. He had been preparing himself for the talk Louis said they would have after he got home. It was the only thing on his mind. Harry was dreading it, but another part of him was ready. They needed to talk; their future depended it.

In between clients and phone calls, Harry spent the day mentally going over everything he wanted to say to Louis. He wanted to apologize for being an absent husband and parent, for starters. He wanted to tell Louis that he deserved more than he'd been given. Harry wanted to give Louis an out to their marriage, despite the fact that they'd gotten closer over the last few weeks. He was ready to come clean about everything. He knew it would hurt, but he also knew that they needed this. He needed it.

He only hoped that Louis would forgive him.

Leaning back in his chair, Harry pulled out his phone and stared at the lock screen. He couldn't bring himself to unlock it, knowing that when he did he wouldn't be greeted by the picture he used to have on his home screen— one of Louis and Elise smiling over something only they knew. A picture of Kendall now occupied that spot. She convinced him that it meant he was serious about her; that he was in love with her and it was an extra bonus to get to look at her when they weren't together.

He listened to her and did as she asked. Harry believed what she told him, despite knowing in the back of his mind that what he was doing was wrong. He still did it and he hated himself for it.

Harry really needed to change it back, but he wouldn't do that until he got to speak to his husband. He wanted to continue feeling guilty for what he'd put Louis through. Hell, for what he'd also put Elise through. Harry figured that the longer he spent hating himself over the situation he'd knowingly put his family in then maybe it would be easier to talk about.

If that made any sense. He honestly wasn't sure.

A shrill ringing brought Harry out of his thoughts. Blindly, he reached for the phone sitting beside his laptop, his cell phone forgotten as he got back to work.

"Harry speaking," he said into the receiver.

Harry blanked out during the conversation. He paid enough attention to answer his client with what she wanted to hear and he got her to agree to meeting him the following week under the guise that he was booked solid until then. He wasn't, but he didn't feel like dealing with her. He'd helped her secure the deal she had been aiming for, so he really didn't know why she still needed his assistance any longer.

\- X -

"Harry, baby!" Kendall nearly shouted as she threw his office door open.

"What do you want?" Harry asked, not bothering to look up from his laptop where he was going through the day's numbers.

"You said we would have lunch today," she said. "I even marked it on the calendar so you wouldn't forget."

Harry looked up then, running a hand over his face and straightening his back. Kendall stood in front of his desk with a skin tight red dress on — a color much too loud for his bland, white office. He studied her for a moment, watching as she got closer and then began to lean over the desk. Normally, this tactic would work in her favor, but he couldn't find it in himself to care at that moment. Looking at her made him feel worse than he already did.

She was beautiful, he knew that much. Her skin tone was just tanned enough and her dark hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, a few stray wisps flowing down around her face. She was always dressed nicely, probably entirely inappropriate for an office job, but he'd never seen the point in complaining until that very moment. Kendall was very self aware and knew who she was and Harry couldn't fault her for that.

She knew what she wanted and she took it. Harry knew he was stupid for taking the bait she laid out for him and, most days he wished he hadn't taken that first bite, but he couldn't take it back. He could only grow from it.

"Earth to Harry!" Kendall exclaimed, leaning completely over his desk at this point. Her dress showing more than he wanted to see.

"We're not doing lunch," Harry stated, motioning for her to stand up.

"Excuse me?" she asked. Harry could hear the surprise in her voice. "Did you really just?"

Harry locked his hands together over the glass surface of his desk, head tilted to the side as he watched her. The expression that took over her face was priceless; a mixture of anger and in complete shock.

"You're going downstairs to the break room where you're supposed to go," Harry began, toying with the ring Louis had given him when they first got together. "Or, the other option is that you're going to sit at your desk outside my office. I don't care which, but we're not doing lunch. Not today, and not ever again."

Kendall could only stare at him. Wide eyes assessing him as he spoke to her in a manner that she'd never experienced before. "What the fuck, Harry? We had plans! You were supposed to take me to that restaurant you've been talking about!"

He had no intention of ever taking her there, actually. That was a place sacred to him.

"Kendall," Harry's deep voice boomed in the silence as he pushed his chair back and walked around the desk to stand next to her. "There are no plans. We're not going anywhere."

"What's going on, Harry?" she cried out, reaching towards him.

Harry stepped back. "This," he motioned between them, "is not happening anymore. We're over. I'm transferring you to a different department and have already put out that I'm looking for a new assistant."

Kendall tried again to get closer. He held his hands up in front of him to stop her. He could see the tears gathering in her eyes as she tried to take in what he said.

"W-what?" Kendall spoke.

"We're through," Harry reiterated. "This never should have started between us. I don't know what happened to make me think it was okay, but it isn't. Kendall, you couldn't have thought we were going to last."

"I... but, you filed, Harry. You told me!" Kendall shouted, trying to get her jumbled thoughts out.

"I did, yes." Harry said, thinking back to how Louis looked that day when he gave him the papers. "But, Kendall, things change. What I wanted when I filed isn't what I want now."

"You're still," she accused, progressively getting angrier as she began backing away from him and towards the door. Kendall's entire demeanor changed when she realized that she'd been replaced by the very person she wanted to get rid of in his life. "I can't fucking believe this! What happened?"

Harry blinked at her question.

What happened?

What really happened?

Why was that any of her business?

"Kendall, things happened. It's none of your business what happened, just that I'm already married and that I intend to remain with my husband."

"You took me to meet him, Harry! Why?" she questioned, demanding answers he didn't want to give.

Harry sighed, looking up at the ceiling in a weak attempt to collect himself. He probably should have explained why he took her to their house then, but hindsight is twenty-twenty. He couldn't go back in time to tell her why he invited her over.

Green eyes locked on her as he spoke, "I wanted you to meet the person that has my whole heart."

That one line, that one confession was all it took for Kendall to storm out of his office. She left the door open in her wake, the way it had been left when she entered the room nearly thirty minutes prior. The entire floor had been blessed with their drama and him breaking things off. They'd be talked about for a while, he knew. He didn't care because leaving her was like lifting a weight off his chest that he didn't realize was there.

\- X -

Harry decided to take the rest of the day off after that. He had all of his calls transferred to his business partner's assistant, considering that he was now without a assistant. 

The only thng he wanted to do was get home to Louis.

He wanted to see him, talk to him, wanted Louis yell at him and tell him that he couldn't believe what Harry did to him — to them. Harry wanted to beg Louis to forgive him, he was prepared for Louis' wrath because he deserved it. He knew he would deserve anything Louis would throw at him.

Pulling into the driveway, Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten home so quickly. Harry felt like it was taking a lifetime to get out of the car and into the house, where he knew Louis was waiting.

"Louis! I'm home!" Harry called out as he opened the door, dropping his keys into the little dish on the table and toeing off his shoes. He didn't bother to put them up; he was on a single mission to find his husband.

Harry went directly into the living room, where Louis sometimes was watching crappy daytime soaps and mindlessly playing on his phone. He wasn't there, which lead Harry to the kitchen in hopes that he would find Louis watching the birds. Harry would never admit it, but he'd watched Louis several times over the last few weeks as he watched the birds. He wouldn't make a noise as to not startle his husband and disturb the quiet, peaceful atmosphere of the room.

Louis wasn't there either.

Harry began to grow nervous.

The house was eerily silent, but it wasn't completely different from other days that he'd come home early. Sometimes Louis would be upstairs sleeping or in the shower, but Harry couldn't stop the off feeling that was growing in his stomach.

Harry breathed in deeply as he left the kitchen and headed upstairs. He paused for just a few seconds to look at the photos on the wall — the same ones Louis took time looking at earlier that morning. Some of their best memories were on the wall and Harry couldn't wait to add to them. Assuming there was still a chance as salvaging their marriage.

He tried to listen out for any signs of Louis being on the second floor as he crept up the stairs. There were no noises; the bedroom TV was off, the shower was off and there was no rustling of the sheets indicating that Louis was sleep. That feeling in his stomach changed then. His heart beat sped up, his hands were sweating and he couldn't seem to swallow the lump that was stuck in his throat.

He didn't know what was going to happen when he got to their room. The words that Louis told him earlier were ringing in his head — " _You couldn't possibly think I'd want to stay_ ", " _I'm looking for somewhere to live_ ", " _You wanted this_ ". The anticipation was eating at him, and he didn't know what to expect.

However, he knew that he didn't expect to see an empty room.

Harry also hadn't expected to see the bed made up nor a notebook placed directly in the middle, atop the manila folder he gave Louis months prior. Harry could feel his entire world shift in that moment as he stared at the bed, tears clouding his eyes as he tried to tell himself to go to the bed. To walk. His curiosity wanted to pick up the notebook, but he couldn't move.

Harry was stuck.

He was frozen.

Things weren't supposed to go this way.


	12. Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry reads the letter Louis left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiii. i'm so amazed and so thankful for the support of this story because i felt like it wouldn't be received well. so thank you all. you've no idea how happy this makes me.
> 
> this chapter, which i got messed up with the last one because of a past chapter i added in at the last minute, is the reason this entire story started. the entire italicized part is louis' letter. i hope its not confusing.
> 
> quick question, is it just me or does anyone have certain songs you listen to when reading/writing? like songs to fit the mood of what it is because i do and i can't decide if this chapter or my music made me cry while working to get this post lol
> 
> TW: mentions of suicide
> 
> enjoy.

Harry didn't know how long he'd been standing at the end of the bed staring at the offending objects laying on top of the duvet. He also didn't know when he made the decision to sit down on the bed, notebook and folder in hand, his fingers barely ghosting over the black cover. Opening it was obviously what Louis wanted him to do, but he didn't want to.

What was inside? What did Louis do?

Harry roughly swallowed the lump in his throat and allowed himself to slide down the bed until he was sitting on the floor, his legs stretched out in front of him and his back against the footboard of the bed. The notebook felt hot on his legs; his nerves on fire and his heart thumping harshly against his chest. Whatever Louis wanted him to know was inside, but he was too afraid to open it.

Harry toyed with the spiral, dragging his fingers along the ridges as he slipped the manila folder out from underneath it and placed it on the floor beside him. He inhaled deeply and opened the cover, his eyes immediately taking notice of Louis' hand writing.

He didn't read anything, but instead flipped through the pages to see how many were written on. The fronts and backs of several pages were filled, some lined with little drawings in the margins and others with words and sentences crossed through. There were words, song lyrics, drawings and what looked to be wet marks that had yet to fade, indicting that Louis must have been crying while writing. 

Harry's heart hurt. How had he driven Louis to this point? His own husband couldn't talk to him directly. He'd royally screwed things up.

In total there were ten pages. Harry knew it would take a while, so he stopped stalling and flipped back to the first page. He mentally prepared himself for whatever it was that Louis had to tell him.

\- X -

_My darling, H._

_Thank you for playing pretend._

_I want to start this off by remembering who we were. Two awkward kids sitting on that beaten up couch, trying to figure life out with our friends and where we wanted to go and what we wanted to do. Harry, love, you drew me in from the first moment I saw you. I knew you were going to be special to me, but I just didn't know how special. I guess I'm good to say that I know now._

_We were amazing together._

_We could still be amazing together._

_Remember when we talked about marriage for the first time? You seemed unsure, telling me that even though you were a romantic at heart you weren't sure that you could be husband material. You were. Very much. You were the best husband anyone could ask for. I take that back — you are the best husband and one day you're going to make someone else very, very happy._

_I hope that whomever you end up with makes you happy, too. You deserve that, Harry._

_Aside from our wedding day, do you know what the happiest day of my life is? Of course, you do, but because I'm not directly asking I'll just tell you. Seeing you covered in cake was funny, but that's not it. My second happiest day is when we officially became parents. The day Elise became ours._

_We got the call, the okay and just like that we were new parents to the cutest baby on Earth. She still is the most beautiful child. Always will be. You're a great father, H. I hope you know that. She looks up to you so much and she loves you dearly. You're her world. Please, don't ever let that change._

_We didn't always have the perfect marriage or relationship, for that matter, but it worked for us. We argued — like that time you didn't want to put a TV in the bedroom because you were afraid that I'd never leave the bed. You were so sure that I'd just stay in bed all day every day and forget that you guys existed. I don't know what made you think that because you guys are more important than a TV and some trash shows. You two are my life. Always will be._

_Hey, H. Do you remember that time I told you we were taking Elise to Disney when she wasn't even old enough to walk? You didn't like that idea either because you said she wouldn't be able to remember anything. You were right. She deserves to remember Disney. Take her one day, okay?_

_You didn't like a lot of my ideas, but you caved on some of them. Like the bird feeder. I'm sorry the damn thing is an eye sore, but it's there and it's your decision if you want to remove it. I wouldn't blame you if you did._

_We had our good times, too. Going to the beach; introducing Elise to the ocean for the very first time. She had a blast. We all did, I'm sure. Remember the first time we tried to put her down on the grass and she freaked out? She wouldn't touch it and wouldn't stand it on for years. That was the funniest shit I'd ever seen up until that point in my life. That was something we really should have recorded._

Harry paused, blinking the tears from his eyes and chuckling at that particular memory. They couldn't get Elise to touch the grass for anything and taking her outside for even a little while was like a nightmare. The idea of being outside with it was the worst thing ever to her little baby mind.

_But, hey, through all the good and the bad, I loved you every second of every day. I love you so much, Harry. My heart could literally burst and I would be perfectly okay with that because I got to love you. You picked me out of everyone and I love you dearly for that. Thank you for taking a chance on me. Thank you for taking a chance on us. Thank you for loving me._

_I'll love you until the day I die, Harry. You're my forever, even though things have changed for us. For you._

Harry put the notebook down and looked up, green eyes staring at the ceiling through tears that were beginning to fall. He breathed in. He breathed out. He tried to collect what little bit of himself was left before he continued reading.

He hoped Louis knew that he was always his.

_Here comes the fun part._

_I hope you didn't plan on this being just about our memories together and how much I love you. It's not. There's more behind me writing everything out for you. Partially because it has been much easier to write than it would be to talk and that's mainly because I couldn't stand the idea of doing this face to face. I hope you forgive me for that, love._

_Let's go back to that night — to the night when I realized things weren't what they seemed and that they never would be again._

_You came home much later than normal, using some excuse about work needing you to stay late. I believed you then. I didn't, however, believe you the night you came home smelling like perfume and a lipstick stain on your shirt. I don't own lipstick, Harry. I guess that little fact escaped your mind that night or something. I honestly don't fucking know. You reeked of beer and smoke; you stunk. God, Harry, I wanted to die then and there because you smelled like all the shit you said you didn't like. Maybe you didn't like it on me? I don't know. I never used it because I don't like it either._

_Did you know that for weeks after that night I laid in bed, got lost in my thoughts at work, in the car any time I had to go out — honestly, anywhere when I got a moment of silence — and I thought it was me, Harry. I thought I had unknowingly done something to piss you off and make you not want to be around me. The first few weeks were horrible because I couldn't figure out what I did wrong. Did I say something wrong? Did I do something? Why wasn't I enough? You know I've always had issues with being insecure and this did nothing to help me. I thought I'd let you down in some way, shape or form. I was breaking, Harry. I didn't know what was going on and you weren't there for me to ask._

_One day you went from coming home before dinner and being a proper family man, and the next day you were a totally different person. You got mad at me for asking questions; told me it didn't matter and that you didn't have to answer anything. I was your husband. I am your husband. I guess that doesn't matter now, though._

_Do you have any idea how it feels to feel like an inconvenience? I felt like a burden. I felt like I was something that you no longer wanted, but happened to be stuck with. You looked at me like I wasn't worth the dirt on the bottom of your shoes. I never thought I'd see that look on your face ever. Here I was, being the same person I had always been and loving you with everything I had, but you didn't care._

Harry shook his head in response to Louis' questions — in response to his words. No, he didn't know that Louis felt that way. He didn't know that Louis was blaming himself because he'd shut him out. Harry had no clue that Louis was hurting so much because of him and he was pissed at himself for not being a better husband. For not being a better person. 

He hated himself more than he ever had before in that moment.

Harry stared down at the page he'd been reading, his vision blurred and tears staining the paper. He'd been so horrible to Louis. No one deserved to be treated that way.

_Let's take a trip to the night of our anniversary, Harry. No matter what happened during the day we always came together at night. That was our night — ours, Harry. One night out of the year that should have been a testament to our relationship, marriage and everything we had built together. All I wanted was one night of intimacy with my husband, but it that didn't happen._

_You couldn't get hard for me. You said you were tired. You told me that you just didn't have it in you to do anything that night. I knew, though. I knew the look in your eyes when you lied to me about how tired you were. I knew that look when you looked at my body and saw something you didn't want to see. You were seeing the body of your husband, a man, and it wasn't doing it for you. The moment you looked at me in disgust instead of seeing me as the attractive man you'd always said I was — that was when I knew._

_I was so hurt, Harry. I was hurt because of what you were doing to me, because of what you were putting me through. I was in pain, but you didn't know that. I was so broken because I wasn't the one you wanted. I was ashamed of myself that night, y'know? I kept thinking I did something wrong to turn you off, that I hadn't tried hard enough to get you interested, but it didn't matter. You weren't interested anymore. I felt so humiliated laying in bed next to you that night. You got to see me at what I thought was my best, but it actually wasn't. You let me try to get you interested, knowing damn well that it wasn't going to work, but you fucking let me do it anyways. For what? Did you feel bad? Did you think I'd buy into your story of you being tired?_

_No, Harry. I didn't. You want to know why? Because you had her marks on your body._

"What the fuck did I do?" Harry asked the open room, his words coming out harsher than intended because he couldn't get himself under control.

Louis' last words on that page stuck with him. Louis knew. He'd known about his affair the entire time and he never said anything. He just let Harry do his thing while he sat at home, waiting and hurting and not knowing what was going to happen to them. Harry was in shock.

_It's Kendall, right? I shouldn't even be asking you that because I know it is. I saw her name pop on your phone multiple times. It started around the time you got a new assistant. I'm not stupid, but you treated me like I was._

_The only upside to what you were doing, Harry, was that Elise and I became a family of two. We were all we had because you saw fit to abandon us. Elise unknowingly became my rock, she was my light in the dark place you'd put me in and that wasn't fair to her. You forgot about us so that you could run around with a woman — no, a girl — that was barely out of school and applied to your job at the right time. You ruined your family for her. You put this woman before your own fucking daughter and I don't know if that's ever going to be okay._

_You can hurt me. I can get over it with time. But, Elise? She didn't do anything to you and because you left me, you left her. No matter how friendly we become in the end, I honestly don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you for being a deadbeat father for those few months. You were such a disappoint, Harry, and I had gotten to a point where I was glad you weren't home because I didn't want you coming back just to rip yourself from our lives again. That kind of thing does damage to a child, but you didn't care about that, did you? You were thinking with your dick and that's all that mattered._

_You were a coward then. You couldn't say no to her and that's what infuriates me the most, I think. You had to have had multiple times to turn her down. Every time she came to you asking for more, you could have told her no. You could have told her about your family, about us, but you didn't. Did she ever know we existed or did she find out the day you brought her into my home?_

_You weren't a man then, H. You weren't anything. You couldn't even come clean to me about her. You had to file for divorce instead. You told me you no longer loved me. You made sure I knew what my place was every time I tried to talk to you. You were so pathetic._

Harry felt hot, annoyed and wishing in that moment that he could tell Louis exactly what he thought about him. If Louis knew then that meant that he was no better than he was. Louis could've easily told him that he knew about Kendall, but he didn't. Harry was pissed. Louis had no reason to be on his high horse when they were both carrying similar secrets.

_I do have questions, if you'd ever like to answer them for me. Did I actually do anything? I thought I was over thinking about that, but obviously I'm not. I'm just curious._

_What did I do? You can tell me. I can take it, H. You know I can. I've taken worse things recently, so..._

"You didn't do anything," Harry answered the silence, hoping that in some way Louis would be able to hear him. "It was all me. You did nothing."

_But, hey... I digress._

_You redeemed yourself when you agreed to play along with me for the sake of Elise. You started coming home earlier, you were showing signs of the man I loved and still love, despite everything. Elise was happier than I'd seen her in a long time and all because you decided to be the father she needed again. Of course, you weren't perfect and we both had days where we'd snap on each other or say things we didn't mean. Or, I think you didn't mean. I said things mostly out of anger just to make you mad. I think you knew this. I think you know this._

_You were Harry again and I was so happy._

_Do you know what it feels like to fall in love for a second time? I do. Because I did that. I fell in love with my beautiful, funny, smart, loving husband for a second time and I feel like the luckiest person alive because you gave me that small period of time where we were just us. It felt like everything was right in the world again, Harry. You won't understand that now, but I hope that by the end of this you will. You taking me back, being my husband again, was what I needed._

_And, then that day happened. You know the day I'm talking about. Even though we were playing house, I didn't have any intentions of ever sleeping with you again. I didn't see a point because of the way things had gone before, but you surprised me._

_You wanted me. You. Wanted. Me. I was over the moon. I was the happiest I'd been in months because you were interested in me sexually again. I never thought I'd get that again from you, but I did and it was amazing. Every time we shared together, every time we were intimate I felt more loved than I had since everything started. It was perfect._

_You were perfect._

_You are perfect._

_Okay, I take that back, you're perfect when you're not yelling at me or trying to make me feel stupid. You did that a lot. I tried to take it with a grain of salt, but sometimes it didn't work._

_I wasn't supposed to ruin everything I said before that last paragraph. I'm sorry, H. I can't erase it because I've written in pen, so let's pretend I didn't say it at all. Okay? Okay, cool._

Harry huffed out a weak laugh. Louis wrote the way he spoke sometimes.

_I want you to know, Harry, that I'll never love anyone else the way I love you. You're it for me. I think I said that once already on another page, but its true. You're my sun, my moon, and everything in between. I love you so fucking much._

__

__

_I want to thank you, Harry. You brought her into my home. Into your house. You put a face to the person I've been in a relationship with. A relationship I didn't want. She's beautiful. She's everything that I'm not. She's lucky to have you. If you love her half as much as you loved me, you'll cherish her. I know you will. I've been there._

_I left last night because I couldn't compare to her. I didn't want to be told in my own home that everything we'd rebuilt over the few weeks was fake. I didn't want you to tell me that we were living in a world of lies because it would've broken me, so I left. I don't think I would've been able to go on when you explained to me who she was. I knew it was coming, I knew what you wanted to tell me last night and I knew what you wanted to tell me this morning, but I couldn't do it. Not face to face, so here we are._

_I'm sorry I kept that secret for so long. Maybe things would have turned out differently if I hadn't or maybe that would've still turned out the same way. We'll never know._

_But, what I do know, Harry, is the real reason for why I'm doing this._

_I couldn't talk to you in person to tell you this because I didn't want you to be mad at me, to talk to me the way you have been. My nerves couldn't handle it._

_I'm sick, Harry._

Harry zoned in on those three words. What did Louis mean? He didn't seem sick. He always seemed like he was fine. 

What did he mean by 'sick'? What was going on? What was happening?

_I found out after your affair started. I have cancer, Harry._

_I never told you about it because it wouldn't have changed anything. You wouldn't have been there for me because Kendall was more important. I also couldn't take away your only source of happiness and I would have done just that. I was already in pain, already suffering, so getting sick really didn't make a difference for me._

_Here's a little update on me, though. The doctor's don't know if I'll make it. I wasn't doing too well for a little while there, but then I started getting better. My cancer cells were being killed off and I was feeling better. That day we slept together? That's the day I got the news that I was finally getting better. It was a bittersweet day, H. I bet you can imagine why._

_I also should probably tell you this, since I don't know if I'll ever get to. I tried to kill myself. You were always gone, I was always alone because I stopped working and only saw anyone when I had appointments. I was in the hospital for hours every day, on different medications and the one person I wanted there with me didn't know I was sick and probably wouldn't have cared anyways. I wanted to end everything. I didn't get to, though. I'm still here. You kept me from doing it when you came home early that first day._

_I will forever be grateful for that._

_But, I think I'm okay now. I have my Mom, my sisters, Zayn and Liam. I have Elise. I have support and I have a reason to fight. I'll get better._

_Harry, can you please do me one thing? Can you tell Elise that I'm not home because I don't want to be, but because I have to be away. I don't want her thinking that I don't love her the way she thought you didn't. She's my baby. Please, make sure she knows this. Also, let her know that if she ever wants to speak to me that she can call my Mom. She'll only tell Elise anything, so don't try asking her yourself. I gave her strict orders to withhold any information you might want or try to get. If Elise wants to tell you, that's on her, but my Mom won't spill anything. I had my power of attorney transferred to her. I almost forgot to tell you that._

_I'm running out of things to say, love. I'm being hospitalized back home because there's a hospital there that's better suited to deal with it. They're going to try to stop it and have already said that all attempts previously made have definitely worked to an extent. I don't know how long it'll take, but we'll hopefully see each other again. I'll come home to get my things and let you live your life. Just don't get mad at me if it takes longer than you want._

_Um... yeah. I don't know what what else to say for real this time. Thank you again for playing pretend with me. With us. Thank you for the recent fleeting moments of happiness I didn't ever think I'd get again. Thank you for the kisses, the hugs, for making me feel loved again._

_I'm sorry for my lame goodbye this morning. You deserve more than a kiss and a broken promise that I'd be home. I had no intention of being there. I'm sorry for lying to you, darling. I hope you can forgive me. I love you._

_I signed the papers._

_Always,_

_Louis Tomlinson_.

\- X -

Harry threw the notebook down in front of him. It flipped open to the middle, displaying blank pages. He was shaking as he reached out next to him to find the manila folder, his heart on the floor knowing that Louis had finally done what he asked him to do. He'd signed the papers Harry hounded him to sign for months. Papers that Harry no longer wanted to turn in because he didn't want to leave Louis.

He wanted to grow old with him. He wanted to bring another child into their family. He wanted to worship Louis and the ground he walked on. Harry wanted so many things, but he didn't know if he'd ever get them upon hearing the news that Louis has cancer.

Harry shoved the folder under the bed and brought his knees up to his chest. He cried into his arms, his breathing ragged and heart breaking into pieces that he was sure would find the broken bits of Louis' shattered heart scattered about.

He vowed, in that moment, in between his sobs and static thoughts that he was going to try to convince Jay to let him talk to Louis. He would do anything in his power to have Louis know that he would always have a home to come back to. That he was his one and only.

It was Harry and Louis. And no one else.


	13. Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry spends time with Elise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize for not updating sooner. i've just been really tired after work lately, so i've been crashing almost immediately after coming home.
> 
> also, sorry this chapter is so short. i try to add more in as i edit, but it never works. i'm just bad at long chapters lol
> 
> enjoy.

Harry didn't hear Elise come home.

He didn't hear the door open and close; didn't hear her call out for Louis or for himself. Harry wasn't even aware that she was home until she sat down next to him. He didn't even know that it had gotten late enough for school to let out.

He had no idea how much time had passed since reading Louis' letter. Hell, he didn't know how long it took him to actually read. Everything felt like one giant blur, like he was looking into his own life through a lens.

"Daddy?" Elise's small voice sounded out in the silent room.

Harry nearly jumped, swallowing the lump in his throat and trying to gather himself for the questions he knew were going to come. "Yeah, baby?"

She was fidgeting beside him, toying with the black strap of her backpack as it dangled next to her leg. Harry took a moment to look over and down at her — she looked just as lost as he did. If not more.

"You okay, Daddy?" she asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Harry momentarily thought about how he should answer her. He could lie and tell her that he was fine. That would've been the easiest thing to do, but Harry felt like he owed it to his daughter to tell her the truth.

"No, baby. I'm not okay," he whispered, eyes watering as he answered her.

"Does it have to do with Papa?" Elise asked. She scooted closer to him, abandoning her backpack on the floor and leaning against Harry's side.

Harry tried to hold himself together. He tried to keep the small tremors of his body and his tears to himself. Harry wanted to be strong for her, but he didn't know how to be in that moment. He didn't think he'd ever know how to be.

The silence between them, marred only by the sounds of their breathing, was a comfortable weight. Elise didn't press the question, but instead brought a tiny hand to the middle of his back and rubbed the way Louis would to do her when she wasn't feeling good.

Harry desperately appreciated that. Such a small gesture held so many words that she wasn't able to say. He wished she understood how much it meant to him. Some day she would, he knew.

"Is Papa okay, Daddy?" Elise asked him after some time passed.

"No, love. He's not," Harry told her. He heard the small, sharp intake of air beside him. "He will be, eventually. Your Papa's strong."

"Is that why he's not here?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, turning to face his daughter and opening his arms. She took the invitation and scrambled into his lap, wrapping her arms around him the best she could and burying her face in the crook of his neck. Her hair tickled his skin, but he ignored it and tightly wrapped his arms around her, holding her like she was his only lifeline. He held her like he would float away without her grounding him.

"I miss him," Elise said softly, her voice trembling. Harry didn't have to look at her to know that she was crying — he could feel the way she shook and how her tears hit his bare skin as her quiet crying turned into louder sobbing.

Harry wanted to tell her that he missed Louis as well, but he couldn't. He couldn't find the words as the tears he'd been holding back began to fall. Harry didn't trust his voice; he didn't trust a simple “I miss him, too” to fully convey exactly how he was feeling.

It wasn’t just missing Louis because he wasn’t there with them. No, it was months worth of time that he missed out on because he’d been selfish and didn’t stop to think about how he was ruining the best thing to ever happen to him. Harry couldn’t properly put into words what he was feeling. Heart break, anger, guilt, sorrow, regret — hatred towards himself and the person he’d become.

The room grew darker as they sat holding one another. Elise eventually cried herself to sleep, leaving Harry to his thoughts as he ran a hand through her hair. Her weight against his chest was a small comfort and he was thankful for her. Whenever his mind started to get the best of him he’d remember that his — their — daughter would need him. She would be relying on him.

Harry sat there trying to come up with a way to explain to Elise that her Papa was sick and that he’d left to get treatments so that he could come back to them. He wanted to come up with a way to tell her that would be easy enough for her to understand, but also get the message across without scaring her or forcing her to think of the worst possible outcome. Trying to find the right words was much harder than he thought it would be.

Harry also spent that time trying to think of what he would say to Louis when he did come home. Or, well, whenever he got to speak to him again. Whichever happened first.

There were so many things Harry wanted him to know — things that he should have told him from the beginning, things that he should’ve told him when they started to get close again. There were things that he should've been saying from the start.

He wanted Louis to know that he’d left Kendall.

He wanted to tell Louis that he’d fallen back in love with him. As if that was enough of a reason to keep them together.

He wanted to tell Louis that if he could take back everything he’d put his family through then he would. He wanted Louis to know how sorry he was and how he planned to spend the rest of his life trying to make up for his careless, immature, selfish mistake. Harry was willing to do anything and everything. If Louis said do it then he would.

Harry also wanted to tell Louis that, even though he no longer wanted the divorce, he couldn’t blame Louis for continuing on it with it. He couldn’t blame Louis for wanting to be done with him.

Hell, Harry honestly didn’t think that he deserved Louis’ forgiveness.

As the day continued on and the last remaining shreds of daylight turned into night, Harry’s thoughts began to slow down. His mind got quiet as his heart got heavy. One of the last thoughts Harry had, after finding the strength to get into bed and put Elise under the covers, was that he’d be fine with Louis leaving him because that's what exactly what he deserved. He didn't deserve anything but the worst that Louis could give him.

Also, they skipped dinner, he thought as he closed his eyes.

But that was neither here nor there after the day they had.


	14. Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Harry and Elise. Also, Harry gets a visitor that he doesn't want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. i hope you're having a good day/night/week, etc. 
> 
> i enjoyed writing the harry pov chapters because i liked being able to play in his head a little bit. i'll have more of these at some point.
> 
> enjoy.

The days following Harry finding Louis' letter and the signed papers were a total blur.

Harry could mainly only recall certain things. These things usually had to do with Elise, but there had been an incident with Kendall that Harry would love to forget. Other than those, he was struggling to remember what he'd been doing. Even the smallest thing gave him issues.

Harry and Elise were having to come to terms with figuring out how to live without Louis around. There was no loud talking or laughter, no light foot steps that sounded like a ghost moving about the house — there was little happiness as they learned to navigate around each other without their key player.

Breakfast the morning after their mutual breakdown had been an event. Elise said she was hungry, but she didn't want to eat. Harry felt that on every level possible. However, he did explain to her that if she didn't eat then she would only feel worse as the day went on. Elise didn't want to budge, so he compromised and told her if she ate breakfast he wouldn't force her to eat lunch. She agreed, but it didn't last long because she eventually came to him asking for a snack.

Waking up without eating the night prior and sleeping in the clothes they'd worn the day before really set the way things would play out for them for the following days. They were so incredibly lost. It was a hard time.

After a couple days of allowing Elise to stay home from school, which she thanked him for, she went back. Elise told him that she had to be strong for her Papa because he was being strong for them. Harry wanted to cry.

He did after she got on the bus.

Later that same morning, he'd called into work and told them he wasn't going to be in for a while because of some family issues that he didn't feel the need to elaborate on. It wasn't anyone else's business what he had going on. That had been the first mistake.

Someone anonymous ended up telling Kendall that he was out for a few days when she went looking for him and she'd convinced them that she needed to check up on him, being his assistant and everything. They had no clue that Harry told her she no longer worked under him, so of course they thought that was a good idea.

Kendall showed up as Harry was drinking a cup of coffee and standing in front of the window he'd affectionately dubbed Louis' window. An obnoxious banging on the door brought him out of his thoughts. Curious (though he wished he hadn't been), he made the walk to the front door and almost slammed it shut in her face. If it hadn't been for her hand being in the way he would have succeeded.

"What do you want?" he asked, clearly annoyed.

"Excuse me?" she shot back.

"Kendall, I told you to leave me alone. We're over. What do you want?"

Harry watched as she pushed her chest out; a move that would've worked on him before, but now disgusted him. It was clear that she was trying to get him to crack. He wouldn't.

"We can't be over," Kendall protested his decision from days prior.

"We can be and we are," Harry said with a sigh. He didn't want to do this.

"We had so many plans, Harry! We were going to get married!" Kendall exclaimed, getting louder and throwing her hands up in the air for emphasis.

Harry rolled his eyes. "In case you weren't aware, I'm already married."

"You're getting divorced." Kendall's voice was smug — like she'd said something she wasn't supposed to but did anyways.

"I'm not," Harry corrected her. "I'm very much in love with my husband and I intend to stay with him as long as he'll have me. Now, if you'll excuse me." Harry slowly started to push the door shut, which earned another round of loud, unnecessary noises.

"Bullshit, Harry! You said you loved me! You were leaving him for me!"

Kendall stomped her feet like the child she was acting like, her black heels clicking against the cement front porch. Harry hadn't realized how much he hated the sound of her shoes until just then.

"Kendall, if you don't get off my property I'm going to call the cops. I'm done with this. I told you we're over. You need to leave." Harry continued to push the door closed, but she would keep sticking a hand, an arm or a leg in to effectively stop him.

"We need to talk about this, Harry."

"We don't. You need to leave," he said for a second time.

"I'm not leaving until you talk to me!" Kendall nearly screamed.

Harry looked at her. He watched as she continued to make a fool out of herself. She was breathing hard, her brows furrowed and a pout on her lips. Kendall looked like an absolute mess. They matched because he wasn't sure he looked much better.

"There's no need to talk. We're done. We're over," Harry started, straightening his back and standing taller to get his point across. The more intimidating he looked, the more he figured he could scare her into leaving. 

"You're ly— "

"Kendall, I said we're done. I don't love you. I don't know that I ever actually did. I'm still married to Louis, my husband, and I have no desire to divorce him. We have a wonderful daughter, we have a family together — one that I let you into and one that I ruined. There is no us, there is Louis and I, and fixing our relationship because he's all that matters to me."

Harry, for all purposes, wanted to keep his cool, but if he had to then he would get mean with her.

"You're fucking delusion, Harry! What did he do?" Kendall asked, outraged.

"Nothing? He married me! He's stuck next to me knowing that I was fucking cheating on him! He's known the entire time, Kendall, and he's still here. I don't love you! I never did. Leave me alone," Harry was done, mentally drained and so very annoyed. He wanted her gone.

"I'm going to tell you one more time, get off my property before I call the cops and have them escort you off." Harry threatened, motioning with one hand for her to leave.

"Fuck you, Harry!" Kendall shouted, finally getting the picture and backing off from his porch.

"Already did and you weren't anything to brag about," he shot back before slamming the door behind her retreating form.

Harry didn't bother waiting around to see if she'd left or not. He was tired and he wanted to be alone. He honestly hoped that would be the last time he'd ever see her again.

\- X -

Back in the present time, Harry was finishing up with the laundry when Elise came running into the house. He could tell she was excited as she dumped her backpack on the floor in front of the stairs and made her way into the family room where he was sat folding clothes.

"Daddy!" she said excitedly.

"Elise!" he responded, trying to sound as enthusiastic.

"I get to call Grandma Jay today!" Elise told him. It was something she'd been looking forward to for days. She was finally getting news on her Papa and Harry hoped that she would tell him exactly what was said about Louis.

"Yes," he said, a small smile on his face, "you do. Let me finish this and then I'll call her for you, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy!" she agreed, sitting down and crossing her legs on the floor next to the couch. She reached out her hands and made a grabby motion, trying to tell him that she wanted to help.

Harry could only laugh and shake his head as he handed her a few towels to fold. They'd keep her occupied for a short time.

The television in the background did little to stop them from having a conversation about how Elise's day was at school. She told him about the science project their teacher let them do and how she wanted to make slime at home now that she knew how to make it. Harry told her they'd get the ingredients the next time they went to the store.

She talked about how people kept asking her why she was absent for a few days and that she didn't know how to tell her classmates it wasn't their business so she lied and said she wasn't feeling good. Harry wanted to correct her and explain that lying wasn't good, but he couldn't when he realized she was doing it to save herself. A little white lie here and there wouldn't harm anything.

Laundry was done much faster than anticipated. They sped through it as they talked.

"Can I call now, Daddy?" Elise asked, holding a stack of folded shirts out for Harry to put in her dresser.

"Yeah, El. Go get me the phone."

"Okay!" Elise disappeared to go grab his phone. He typically kept it charging in the kitchen or in his room.

It took her no time to return, holding his phone out and bouncing on her feet as he scrolled through his contacts to find his mother-in-law's number. Elise was a ball of nervous energy; it was the first time she'd get to talk to Jay or Louis since he'd left them.

"Here you go, baby. It's ringing. Bring me the phone when you're done, okay?" Harry ruffled her hair as she nodded, an excited squeal coming from her tiny body when he heard Jay pick up. As he walked out of the room he heard Elise distinctly saying that "no, Daddy isn't here".

That hurt. A lot. He guessed he deserved that.

\- X -

It was some time later — hours, in fact — before Elise came out of her room. He had no idea how long she'd been on the phone as he tried to keep himself occupied with other household chores. Harry wanted to start dinner, but he wasn't sure what Elise wanted. Waiting for her to get done so he could ask had been the worst.

Elise found Harry in the kitchen when she finally reemerged from her room upstairs. She was quietly observing him as he sat at the table, his head resting on his arms. He looked like he was sleeping the same way kids in her class did when they were sleepy or bored.

His phone was held tightly in her hand as she slowly walked across the expanse of the kitchen until she reached him, poking him gently in the side with a single finger. He startled, jerking his head up and groaning at the sudden movement. That would probably cramp later on.

"Hey, El." Harry stretched, his arms reaching above his head. "Enjoy your talk?"

She nodded, placing his phone down on the table and pulling out the chair that was dubbed her chair. It was the one she'd literally stuck stickers on spelling her name out so that everyone knew not to sit in her spot. Harry watched her, a frown flitting across his face in concern. He had so many questions, but he was afraid to ask.

"Grandma Jay says I'm not supposed to tell you anything," Elise said softly, looking down at the table like she was in trouble and waiting for Harry to discipline her. "She said Papa wants me to keep everything a secret."

Harry's heart — what was left of it — was breaking. He knew that already, but the thing that really got him was how upset it made their daughter. Harry could tell she wanted to spill it all; wanted him to know exactly what she was told. And, God, was he curious.

"You're good at keeping secrets, yeah?" Harry asked, pushing his chair back and standing up. He took a few steps around the end of the table until he was able to crouch down next to her, a hand on the back of her chair, fingers wrapped around one of the wooden rods to keep himself in place.

Elise looked up at his movement, following him with teary eyes as she nodded. "I'm the best secret keeper."

"Good," Harry said. He stood then, placing a hand on top of her head and messing up her hair. It was killing him to find out what Jay told her or if she even got to talk to Louis, but he wasn't going to put her in that situation. His curiosity be damned. "Keep holding onto them, love."

She blinked. Once, twice. She started to softly cry.

Harry couldn't decide if it was from what she'd been told or if it was from being relieved that he wasn't going to pressure her. He hated seeing her cry. He hated knowing that somewhere in the mess of things a lot of her tears fell back to how he treated them for the longest time. 

If he'd been there, if he hadn't been an absolute dick then maybe Louis would still be there with them as he fought his battle. Or, better yet, maybe they would've rented a place closer to the hospital Louis was staying in. Maybe Jay would've taken them in if he'd still been in her good graces.

"Hey, El." Harry said as he turned and walked towards the fridge, attempting to break the tension in the room.

"Hey, Daddy." Elise responded, trying to make her voice go as deep as she could.

Harry smiled at that, shaking his head. "What do you want to eat?"

They'd be okay, he told himself, as Elise rattled off different dinner options.


	15. Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little look into Harry's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, hello. sorry for skipping a week in between updates. i just couldn't be bothered because i've fallen into a rut when it comes to my writing and i feel like it isn't good enough, so i didn't want to write or post anything because i feel like its all shit. i hope you understand.
> 
> also, this chapter is a write in. it wasn't originally in the story, but i wanted to continue a little more with harry's pov since i like getting into his head. this chapter does that a little bit. it gives a little insight to how he works and what was going through his mind while cheating, etc.
> 
> enjoy.

If there was one thing Harry wasn't good at doing, it was being alone. He absolutely hated it. It was, single-handedly, the worst thing in the world and he wished that he could change it.

He'd gotten used to being around someone at any given time when he was home. Even if they weren't directly in the same room with him, they were still in the house. That was enough for him because he could still hear their voices or he was able to listen to them flutter around the house doing whatever it was they were doing. It was comforting and Harry missed it.

Now, though, he didn't know what to make of things. The silence was overwhelming. His thoughts were even worse, especially when he didn't have anything to occupy himself with. It was as if his head was working against him when he let the quiet sneak into his mind — coaxing out memories, words said during fights and arguments, feelings that he felt whenever Louis was near by. He was constantly being reminded of things he didn't want to be reminded of.

Harry was trying to watch TV in the bedroom, the volume loud enough to drown out the silence that he'd decided to call his enemy. There was a commercial playing; an older man was talking about his life and how this certain medication had changed his life for the best. Harry had no idea what he was going on about because the music in the background was louder than the man's voice rattling off the general warnings. At least, that's what he thought the man was talking about.

It was almost noon, he noted as a brief commercial for the news came on shouting about " _coming up next at 12_ ". It had really been hours since he decided laying in bed was the best course of action for the day. He'd attempted to keep himself entertained, but he hadn't done a very good job at it.

Harry turned the TV off, dropping the remote onto the bed next to him. He let the late morning sun cover him as he lay curled up on Louis' side of the bed. The thoughts that he was trying to keep at bay were rejoicing as they came to the forefront of his mind, racing in different directions and trying to find the perfect one to stop on. The perfect thought to start his daily downward spiral.

Harry found himself lost in the memory of their anniversary night.

He remembered small parts of their night before they took things up to the bedroom. They talked and he acted like everything was still the same. Harry let Louis get his hopes up that night; he told Louis that he wanted it, that he couldn't wait until they went upstairs, and that they were going to have a memorable night.

It had definitely been memorable. 

Harry found that he couldn't get hard and he knew exactly why that was. He was no longer sexually attracted to his husband. Yes, Louis was a beautiful man and he couldn't deny that he was attractive, but not in the way that Louis was supposed to have been. Harry just didn't see him that way anymore, so he lied and told him that he was just tired.

Harry saw the pain on Louis' face that night when he realized that they weren't going to be doing anything, but he decided to ignore it in favor of pulling the covers over himself and rolling over to face away from Louis. Going to sleep was the only thing he wanted to do, even though he actually wasn't all the tired. He just laid there, listening to Louis as he softly cried about how the night turned out. Harry was waiting for him to go to sleep that he could slip out of bed to call Kendall and tell her that he was coming over. He wanted her — wanted the satisfaction that only she could give him.

If Harry had known then that the real reason for Louis' tears wasn't the night being ruined but rather that Harry made him feel like the worst human alive then maybe he wouldn't have been so quick to leave. Maybe he would've stayed and comforted Louis. Maybe he wouldn't have left the minute Louis' breathing evened out.

Maybe.

Probably not.

Harry grasped the duvet in one of his hands and brought it up to his face, where he used the fabric to catch his tears as he tried to keep himself from breaking down. He brought his knees closer to his chest, curling into a tighter ball and trying to push his thoughts back into their cage. They had other plans, however.

He could hear himself telling Louis lie after lie about why he wasn't coming home. He could hear himself call Louis every name he could think of during their fights. Harry could recall the things he thought about Louis as he vented to Kendall about how tired he was being with a man as boring as his husband. Their marriage was stale, it had grown cold, and Harry wanted something that Louis couldn't offer him.

Harry told Kendall that Louis was nothing but another house wife — husband, in their case — and he was too involved in their kid's life and not meeting Harry's needs. Harry said that he couldn't see them lasting another ten years, or even five years. Hell, he didn't even know if they were going to make it a year with the way things were going.

That was when the affair started.

At first, it was just the two of them having lunch together and him talking his frustrations out. That lead to giving Kendall his number, where they would text at all times of the evening and night when they weren't together at work. Eventually, the innocent texts and the occasional calls turned into dinner dates, and they became Harry being invited into Kendall's home. It was a modest one bedroom apartment. Perfect for what he needed it for. They started hooking up. The rest was, well, history.

Harry dropped the duvet from his grasp and turned over so that he was facing the ceiling, tears sliding out the corners of his eyes and he stared at nothing in particular. He blinked, swallowing the lump in his throat. He pounded a single fist into the mattress below him, cursing the day he ever let Kendall into his life.

He wished that she'd never been hired on. Period. She saw someone in trouble and struck out.

Harry hated her.

However, the rational part of his brain — the part that was telling him to see things differently — was shouting that he couldn't blame her. The only person he had to blame was himself. He was the one to let her close to him; he decided to open up to her about his failing marriage.

A marriage that wasn't even failing. It was still going strong, but between his husband having other things to worry about (like work, for example) and their daughter, Harry had been completely rage blind to everything. He took everything that Louis did and put it against him.

Louis was spending time with Elise? That meant he didn't feel like pleasing his husband.

Louis was busy getting ready for the spring play that his theater kids were working on? That meant his work was more important than Harry was.

In Louis' world there was nothing wrong with them. They were perfect. He was still doting on Harry when the opportunity arose and he was still putting out weekly and sometimes daily. They were still the same two people they'd always been.

But... Harry didn't see it that way and that was his downfall. He did that. He took the coward's way out — he started cheating, he filed for divorce, he blamed Louis for it all.

Everything could have been avoided if he'd just come clean, but he hadn't and that thought didn't even cross his mind when he started seeing Kendall. All he wanted was excitement and damn it, he was going to get it one way or the other. He made sure of that the first time he slept with Kendall. The first time he got drunk enough to have sex with her without a condom, risking her getting pregnant and being able to always hold that over his head.

That was exciting.

The fights with Louis were exciting, too. The arguments that he would start or take place in to get Louis riled up, the heat in Louis' eyes when he showed that he wouldn't back down. The way Louis asked him to play pretend with him. Rejoining the family was exciting, but relearning who Louis was was the best thing about it all.

Harry didn't think he'd ever be able to love Louis again, but the man had proven him wrong and Harry fell harder. It made seeing Kendall difficult because he wanted to go home to his husband — to his daughter; to his family. She had been placed on the back burner. Harry was finally finding what he thought was missing. He'd eventually come to learn that the only thing missing had been him.

In the end, however, he'd been too late. Louis was sick. He was dying. And, despite how close they'd gotten again, Louis wanted nothing to do with him.

Harry choked out a painful sob as he rolled back onto his side. His body shook uncontrollably as he let himself go. His lungs were extremely tight and his breathing had become labored. He curled his fingers into his palms, squeezing his fists so tightly that he could feel his nails digging into his flesh as he let everything out.

Harry could feel his heart beating harshly against his chest and, during a single moment of brief clarity, he thought it was going to crack his ribs. The ringing in his ears devoured the silence that he had been afraid of, but yearned for as hot tears ran down his face, mixing with the snot dripping from his nose. Harry tried to calm himself down, but he found that he couldn't because he was too far gone as he licked his lips for the tenth time in five minutes.

Harry cried.

He cried over what he put Louis through. He cried over the pain he inflicted on his husband. He cried over how nasty he'd been.

Harry cried.

He cried over possibly losing Louis. He cried over Louis' battle with cancer. He cried over how much Louis was dealing with and how hard it must have been to remain strong when all he wanted to do was end things.

But, mostly, Harry cried over the uncertainties that their future held.


	16. Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's life resumes. Louis offers a little hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first, i want to apologize for taking longer periods between chapters. i want to say that it isn't intentional, but that would be a lie. i've not wanted to update or work on this story at all.
> 
> secondly, i'm sorry if this chapter annoys or pisses you off because of louis giving harry a chance. this is a warning in case that's not your cup of tea, but please don't give up on me just yet. i've gone more into detail in the end notes.
> 
> enjoy.

A week.

Seven days.

Two weeks.

Fourteen days.

Harry stopped counting after three weeks passed.

He'd gone back to work during week three because he was tired of sitting at home and dwelling on everything. The more time he spent thinking about where he screwed up the more he realized that it was going to make things harder once Louis came home. He could only beat himself up so much before he felt like he couldn't dig his way out of the hole he created.

Harry knew he screwed up, but he wanted to make things right. He just hoped that Louis could find it in himself to want the same thing.

Getting back into work mode was difficult for him. The only good thing was the company had given him a new assistant, for which he was thankful. It was an older woman, one with a ring on her finger and a look on her face that said she was only there to work. Harry liked her just enough and that's all that really mattered. They'd get along well enough to work.

Harry had paper work piled up that he hadn't touched; the deadline on most still being weeks out and giving him some time to process them. His call log was backed up and he didn't feel up to calling a single person back, but he would suck it up and do call them because otherwise that would make him look even worse. He didn't need to look like the world's biggest prick at work as well. That role was reserved for at home only.

Being back in his office felt surreal. His body didn't recognize the way his chair felt and the air had a different vibe to it — everything felt wrong. He didn't like it. It was colder than he remembered it ever being, but Harry decided that it was probably Ginger, his new assistant, changing the temperature to make herself comfortable. He wouldn't complain because she made his work life easier.

One of the hardest things Harry found himself having to cope with was the distance between himself and Elise. It had been the two of them for weeks now, save for when she started going back to school. But still, they were together every morning and afternoon. Him being at work shouldn't affect the way he felt about being away from her.

It did, however, and he didn't like it.

They'd finally gotten a little routine down and he had everything intention of keeping it going. He would get home an hour before she did, which gave him just enough time to get things started in the chore department that he didn't feel like putting off until the weekend. When she walked through the door, Elise always searched for him until she found him doing whatever random task he'd taken on in whatever room he'd gotten lost in. For some reason unknown to him, Harry always startled when she would silently creep into the room and stand behind him wordlessly. He couldn't decide if she did it on purpose because she thought it was funny or because she still wasn't sure how to deal with being around him without Louis there as a buffer.

Either way, seeing her in whatever outfit she conjured up that morning and the small smile on her face after his near heart attack always made him feel better.

"Mr. Styles?" came a quiet, stern voice from the open doorway. His head jerked up to find Ginger standing there, staring at him and looking slightly impatient. Harry briefly wondered how long he'd spaced out.

"Yes? Go ahead," he answered her with a wave of his hand.

"There's a call for you on line one," Ginger tapped her foot against the carpet and watched him. "They're on hold."

"Who is it? If its a client take a message and I'll get back to them later." Harry's green eyes shot down to look at his office phone where the red light was blinking to indicate what she said as truth. She'd put them on hold.

"I tried that, Mr. Styles, but they're not a client." Ginger told him. "They said they really need to speak with you. It's important." 

Harry sighed then and ran a hand along his face. "Did they give you a name?"

"No, they didn't."

"Okay. Thank you," Harry said as he hesitantly reached for the phone.

His hand was shaking. Typically answering a personal call was just a thing, but this felt different. He always knew who was calling him and when, as he'd given them times of the day when his work load wouldn't be as heavy, but this was new. Harry had no idea who was calling him because they didn't give a name and the screen on the phone's dock said name unavailable.

It could literally be anyone. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He only wanted to talk to one person.

Harry straightened his back, scooting the chair closer to the desk and gathering himself. The phone shook as he took it from the base and brought it to his ear, his other hand reaching to push the flashing red button to take the caller off hold.

"Harry Styles speaking," he said into the receiver, deepening his voice as he normally did when it came to talking on the phone. For a moment the only sound he could hear on the other side was shallow breathing and then a faint " _fuck_ ".

Harry's heart stopped. The shaking became more intense. He knew that voice — that soft, airy voice with a slight tilt to it that was masked and unsure of itself. Harry couldn't believe it.

"You there?" Harry asked, nearly breaking the phone with how tightly he was gripping it. When no response came he almost thought they'd hung up, but he continued on anyway. "If you don't want to talk, that's okay. You can hang up and we'll try again when you're ready."

A soft, muffled laugh came through the speaker, followed by the most amazing sound in the world. "I'm still here."

Harry wasn't sure when he started crying, but he had. The tears were falling steadily as he sniffled and weakly laughed. This was actually happening.

"Louis," Harry choked out, unable to say more out of fear of not being able to talk.

"H, are you okay?" Louis asked. He sounded like he was in better spirits than Harry was. How he managed to stay so put together was completely beyond the younger man. "I need you to tell me that you're okay, love."

Nodding and feeling like a total idiot for it, Harry swallowed before speaking, "I'm okay, Louis."

"Good," came the reply. "How've you been?"

Harry blinked then, confused that Louis was acting like he hadn't left them and then shut him out for the last couple weeks. He wanted to tell him everything — tell him about how weird everything has been, about how he was trying to become a better version of himself for him and their daughter. Harry had so many ways to answer him, but it wasn't the time nor the place, so instead he stuck with a simple answer.

"I've been," Harry looked down at the desk, eyes flitting over the papers and the black ballpoint pen that he hadn't touched in hours, "okay. I've been holding up. What about you?"

"Oh, y'know, I've been trying to survive." Louis retorted and Harry could hear the smile playing on Louis' lips. "I'm doing good, actually."

"Is that so?" Harry asked as he leaned back in his chair.

"It is," Louis said. "Has Elise told you anything?"

"Nope," he answered his husband, breathing in, "she hasn't said a word. She told me that Jay said she had to keep their conversations a secret and she's been doing just that."

"Harry," Louis' voice sounded like he was in the room with him. "She's only talked to my mom once. She's been talking to me every time."

"W-what?" Harry stuttered. He had no idea.

"Yeah, I figured she would've told you by now." Louis said. Harry could hear the rustling of his blankets in the background as Louis' moved position. "I told her she could tell you. I told her she could tell you everything we talk about."

"I didn't know," his voice was barely above a whisper.

Harry could hear the cogs in Louis' brain working and trying to figure out why Elise hadn't told him yet. A few tense moments passed between them and, if not for the noise in the back on Louis' end, Harry would have for sure thought he'd hung up.

"Obviously," Louis said. "I told her she could, but I guess she didn't want to. I wonder why."

"Probably because I told her to hold on to her secrets," the younger man admitted. "Elise — she was so torn up over not being allowed to tell me things, so I told her to be the best secret keeper she could be."

Louis laughed at that. Genuinely laughed because that's exactly what Elise told him one night. Louis had to tell her she was doing a good job, but he didn't realize that she'd kept it going after he gave her permission to talk to Harry about him.

Harry missed his laugh. He missed hearing him talk. He missed everything.

"You have time to catch up or should I call back later? Maybe once you've gone home," Louis suggested, giving Harry hope he hadn't realized he needed. "It's a few hours away and I have an appointment with my doctor, but maybe we can we talk more later."

"Yeah," Harry breathed. "That's cool. That's fine. Just call the cell."

"Will do, H." Louis said.

"Okay, Lou." Harry could feel the tears coming back. "I'll talk to you later? You're not gonna blow me off again, are you?"

"Ouch, Harry." Louis laughed lightly. "I guess I deserved that. But, yeah, we'll talk later."

Harry wasn't ready to hang up, but he wasn't ready to have any kind of conversation with Louis while at work when anyone could and would walk in without notice. He also couldn't tie his phone up with a personal call (he could, but that wouldn't be good business practice). He wanted to stay on the phone as there were so many things he wanted to talked about.

"H? Harry? You there?" Louis called out on the other end, pulling Harry from his mind. He'd spaced out again.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going now," he said.

"Alright, Lou." Harry nodded like Louis could see him. "I miss you."

"Oh, Harry." Louis' voice sounded broken. "We'll talk about that later, okay?"

That was not the response Harry wanted, but he had no choice but to take it. It was the one he was given and he'd cherish it because Louis said they'd talk again.

"Yeah," he told Louis. "Later, Lou."

"Bye, H."

The click from Louis' end was the loudest sound Harry had ever heard. He put the phone back on its base and put his head in his hands, fingers digging into his hair as a wave of full body sobs took over him. Harry couldn't stop himself from crying even if wanted to. He didn't, but that wasn't the point.

The point was that Louis called him. Legitimately called him and didn't go through his mom for contact. That had to be a good sign, right? Harry wanted to take it as such, but he knew by trial and error that he probably shouldn't.

Harry knew that morning when he woke up that work was going to be something different. He didn't know at the time as he was getting ready and seeing Elise get on the bus before he left the house, but he knew now. Louis always knew how and when to shake things up at the right moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm honestly struggling with the direction of this story because i've been reading your comments and taking them to heart and writing down notes on what people want to read versus what i want to write. the original ending to this was that louis would die. that's it. it would have ended with the letter. i didn't like that, so i decided to give it a happy ending where they would end up together again after some time and work on both of them, but i'm now second guessing this and everything i've had written out for years.
> 
> so, i decided that i would continue with louis' giving harry hope of their future and work from there over the next few chapters since they're already written and ready to post and i can work off that. i don't have much else planned out after those because i don't know where to take it anymore.
> 
> this brings to this this - i want to ask for your input and any ideas or suggestions you can give me to eventually give this a more realistic ending instead of a naive happy ever after. i appreciate all the feedback you guys have been giving me and i want to write and post something that we're both happy with.


	17. Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis calls Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, i just want to get this off my chest.
> 
> thank you for giving me ideas to keep this story going and for helping me over come my desire to just stop working on it. i really was struggling with whether or not i wanted to continue, but with the suggestions, ideas and kind words i'm not feeling that as much now. its still hard, but i have things i want to write and i'll be damned if i don't finish this. so, really, from the bottom of my heart - thank you. i appreciate you all so much.
> 
> heads up again, this is a continuation of the last chapter and louis seems like he's giving harry hope for their future, so if that's not your thing... i apologize. don't give up on me just yet.
> 
> enjoy.

The rest of his shift felt like it was taking forever. Ginger, bless her, tried to divert most of his incoming calls with promises of taking messages and having him call back. Harry knew that he probably wouldn't do that unless it was something seriously important, which they rarely were. He'd call them back at his earliest convenience.

He knocked down the disastrous mound of paperwork he had to do by at least half. He did the ones with the shortest deadline first, leaving the remainder to be done the following day or never, depending on how he felt. Harry never used to slack on his work, it was something he always took pride in, but he was tired. And so frustrated with how slow the rest of the day was going.

Lunch was had alone in his office. He gave word to Ginger to turn away anyone that wanted to see him during his lunch hour, giving her strict rules that there was only person he'd allow to visit him. It wouldn't happen, but he still needed to tell her.

All Harry could do as he waited and watched the clock slowly tick was think about the phone call with Louis. He still couldn't comprehend that Louis, the same person that wrote out that he wanted zero contact in his letter, sought him out. He came to Harry, and he wasn't entirely sure how to feel about it. Harry thought for sure that he would've been the one to break and beg Elise for information on his husband.

That hadn't been the case.

Harry sighed for the umpteenth time that day as he tried to stay focused during the last hour of his shift. He didn't want to start another stack of papers because it meant he would likely take it home and that wasn't happening. He used to be okay with doing so, as to get a one up for the next day, but Elise and being home came first. Work could wait.

He watched as the clock on the wall changed to show that it was time to leave. Harry wasted no time shutting off his computer, grabbing the bag he'd brought with him and his suit jacket. Turning the lights off was the last thing he had to do and then he was out.

"Thank you," Harry said as he shut and locked the office door behind him. Ginger looked up at him and nodded in response as she too was gathering her things up to leave for the day.

"I don't know what happened, Mr. Styles, but you didn't seem okay after the call you took earlier," she said, standing up and pushing her chair in. "I saw to do my job the best I could, no thanks is needed."

Harry looked at her, green eyes widened slightly and he nodded. "Still, I appreciate it."

With that, they silently made their way down to the bottom floor and parted ways. Harry was back to feeling incredibly unsure about himself and everything that was going on between them. He was looking forward to the drive home so that he could get lost in his head and think about what he wanted to say to Louis.

\- X -

Not even five minutes after getting home and barely making it up the stairs to change clothes, Harry's phone began to ring. He jumped, as he'd been doing a lot over the last little while, and he pulled his phone out of his back pocket.

"Hello?" Harry answered, sitting down on the bed and toeing off his shoes.

"Hey, H." Louis greeted him.

"You called." Harry sounded shocked. "I mean, you said you would. I don't — sorry."

Louis chuckled on the other end. Harry could see his smile. "Yeah. I deserved that. Again."

"You didn't," Harry started, the shakiness that he initially had was starting to peel away. "I'm an asshole for saying it."

"H, I told you that I would see you again and I left you a letter instead," Louis' voice was soft. "It's well deserved. It's okay."

Harry wanted to tell him that it wasn't okay, but he didn't. He couldn't. It was clear to him that Louis felt some type of guilt with the way he handled things their final day together. Harry let him take have that one. He didn't want to ruin whatever was going on between them during this call and however many more they might have.

"How was the rest of work?" Louis asked, cutting through Harry's inner dialogue.

"Terrible, Lou." Harry sighed, falling backwards on the bed, one arm coming up to cover his eyes. "It was so slow and I let things pile up because I wasn't there for a few weeks."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I took some time off after, well, y'know," Harry answered. "I had to figure some things out and work on getting back into the groove with just Elise. It was a time, let me tell you."

He could hear Louis moving around in the background and he wondered what he was doing. Harry almost worked up the nerve to ask, but he was cut off as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Tell me about it, H." Louis said. "I want to hear about this struggle."

"Lou, it was horrible," he started off by whining. Harry rolled over onto his side and switched the hand his phone was in. "We didn't know how to be around each other for a couple days. And, yes, Louis, before you say anything, I blame myself for that. I hated that I didn't know how to be around my own daughter."

"I wasn't going to say anything, Harry." Louis said. "You fell off the track for a little bit, but you made your way back. It happens and that's okay."

"That's the thing, Louis. It isn't okay. It was never okay and I don't know if it ever will be," Harry began, chest heaving as his mind blanked on what he actually wanted to say. This wasn't it. At all. "What I did to her. What I did to you — fuck, Louis. Why are you even calling me? You made it clear that you didn't want me to be apart of your life."

The silence was deafening, mingling with Harry's words and lingering between them. Harry didn't know what was going to happen. He didn't know if his mouth would start running off again without warning or if Louis would hang up on him first. He wouldn't blame Louis because he'd hang up on himself.

Harry shifted on the bed just enough to sit up, his sock clad feet flat on the floor and a single ray of light dancing trough a slit in the closed curtain. "I don't understand, Louis. What I did to you... I wouldn't want anything to do with me either."

Harry could hear Louis' breathing in deeply. "Harry, I've had time to think about things. There really isn't much to do when I'm sitting here fighting for my life."

"What kind of things?" Harry questioned.

"This cancer. Myself. What I want to do after this is done," Louis answered truthfully. "You, us, our family. I've thought about a lot of things, Harry."

"What about these things?" he was curious. So, so curious.

Louis sighed on the other end, "I miss you, Harry. I'm not going to lie to you. It's been hard doing this with only my Mom here because all she wants to do is talk about how I'm wrong for wishing you were here. Zayn being here sometimes makes things a little easier. My sisters, too. They don't judge me as much as my Mom does."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but he was forced to stop and listen.

"I signed the papers. I'm sure you're aware of that and you've probably turned them in by now, so I hope that things work out well for you two. But... I can't help but wish things worked out for us, y'know?" Louis' voice cracked as he spoke. He sounded small — fragile, broken. "I thought about doing couple's therapy. Maybe seeing where things would go because we were working again and it was amazing. I miss you, H. I love you and I'm rooting for your new relationship. That's all I want to say on that matter. It's probably the only thing you wanted to hear anyway."

Harry's heart was breaking all over again. The more Louis talked the bigger the hole in Harry's heart grew. It hurt that Louis thought Harry only wanted to hear about the end of their marriage. Harry didn't want that. He didn't want to hear about Louis' thoughts on that subject. Harry actually wanted to know about everything else that Louis was going through; they could come back to their issues another time.

"Lou — Louis," Harry fought back tears as he thought about the right way to word what he wanted to say. "That's not... that's the last thing I wanted to know about. I want to know about how you're doing. About how everything is going on your end. I figured coming back to us would be something we'd talk about later."

"But, since you brought it up," Harry continued, running his fingers through his curls. "I tore the papers up, Louis. I ripped them up along with whatever I had going on with Kendall. I left her that day, actually. I told her I was still in love with you — you, the man I fell in love with and made a family with. I couldn't... I can't. Louis, I don't want to live without you, but before we have this conversation I need you to get better. We can wait."

Louis was crying. Harry could hear him. He could also hear the heart rate monitor in the background starting to speed up and he knew what would happen if Louis didn't calm down.

"Lou, baby," Harry whispered. "It's okay. We'll get through this, but I need you to calm down right now. You're going to alert a nurse."

"I know," Louis responded. "I can't help it, Harry. I convinced myself that we were over and now you're saying that we're not. You have no idea how much I've wanted to hear that over the last few weeks. We can do therapy. We can try to figure things out."

"Yes, baby." Harry said reassuringly. "But, before all of that, you need to get better. You're still fighting cancer and I hope you're kicking its ass."

That earned a lighthearted laugh from Louis and a confirmation that he was doing better. Somewhat.

"They said that things look promising, and that the medications and intense rounds of chemo have been working." Louis informed him of the good news. "It was a hard decision to come here, but I trusted they knew what to do."

Harry couldn't stop himself from crying at the news. "That's great, Louis. Keep doing that. Keep winning."

"Now who needs to calm down?" Louis teased and Harry could only imagine him sticking his tongue out at him.

"Shut up," Harry laughed. He'd forgotten how it felt to laugh without worry.

"Hey, Harry."

"Yes, Lou?"

"I'm going to let you go now," Louis said softly. "It's about time for Elise to come home and I don't want her to think the wrong thing finding you on the phone."

"Why would she think the wrong thing?" Harry asked. He was confused.

"I told her about Kendall," Louis admitted quietly. "I thought she had a right to know in case you moved her in or something."

"What the fuck, Louis?" Harry wanted to yell, but he refrained. "Why would you do that?"

Logically speaking, Harry understood why Louis told her. It was in her best interest to prepare her. The question was how much did Louis tell her? Harry felt anger nipping at the base of his spine and he knew if he didn't get off the phone sooner rather than later then he might say something to ruin everything.

"She needed to know!" Louis exclaimed.

"No, Louis, she fucking didn't need to know!"

"What would've happened if you moved her in without telling Elise? That would have caused all kinds of problems between you two. You're already blaming yourself for your tattered relationship with Elise, so that would've made things a hell of a lot worse," Louis told him.

"That doesn't excuse anything!" Harry shook his head, his free hand balled into a fist. He was trying to keep his anger at bay. It wasn't Louis' fault for doing right by their daughter.

"If it helps, love, I didn't tell her you cheated on me." Louis said.

Harry froze. Everything stopped in that moment. "Thank you, Louis."

"No problem, H." Louis returned.

They sat on the phone, both quiet and thinking about their next move. Neither knew what to talk about, so Louis took the initiative.

"Okay, H. I'll talk to you later. It's not my night to call Elise, so..." Louis stated, the lack of energy in his voice was clearly evident in the way his volume decreased.

"Alright, Lou. I miss you, I'll talk to you later."

For a second time that day, Louis ended the call and Harry found himself an emotional mess. They had a long way to go, but he had hopes that things would turn out for the best.

Until the best happened, Harry had a squealing child running into his room and excitedly telling him about her day.


	18. Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small look into Louis' hospital life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys, thank you so much. this fic has 5,000 hits. i know that's not a lot in comparison to some of the other amazing stories out there, but i never thought anyone would even bother with this one, so i'm amazed. thank you.
> 
> this is a filler chapter kind of. its a small look into louis' stay at the hospital and reasoning for calling harry. it doesn't do much for the actual plot. sometimes that's okay. i wasn't going to use this chapter, but i decided to anyways so that i could have a little more time rewriting the next chapter to add more in.
> 
> enjoy.

Louis hated everything.

He didn't really, but he was beginning to think that he did or that he would eventually.

He hated how lonely he was while stuck in the hospital. His only moments of happiness were when his mom or his sisters would come spend time with him or walk around the hospital halls with him most evenings. Sometimes they would let him go outside, but only if it was nice enough outside to do so, which was rare since the temperature had dropped and it was getting colder out.

The nurses weren't the best people to talk to. He tried to strike up a conversation or two with several of them, both day and night shifts, but it was like they wanted nothing to do with him. Not that he blamed them. They probably had a million other things to do.

Zayn would show up sometimes; he would only visit on his days off from work. Those days were his favorite. Well, next to the days when he got to talk to Elise. Zayn would keep him in the loop when it came to things going on back home. They talked about Zayn's job, his relationship, what new things were opening and the Christmas decorations being put up early around the town. They talked about what the doctors told Louis and how he was faring, Louis told him about his siblings and the things they were doing. But the one thing they never talked about was Harry.

Louis, at first, didn't want to talk about him. He didn't wanted to know anything about him or what he was up to. He did hope that Harry was well, despite Louis' own state of health (and mind). That's as far as he went, though. Harry was a sore topic and if Louis wanted to get better he needed to focus on the things that wouldn't keep him upset. He needed to focus on the important things.

Weeks passed; days and nights merging into one another, and Louis felt like he was going crazy. He was stuck to his single person room with an old box TV for a friend. There was never anything good on at any time of the day. Not that he wanted to watch anything, anyway. The first few days after being admitted were passed watching day time soaps and sitcoms. Louis was honestly over it.

The chemo and radiation were doing numbers on his body. Louis had never been more sick than he'd been over the last little while. He'd lost more weight, couldn't keep anything down; if not for the IV in his arm then he probably wouldn't have been able to get any type of nutrients or medications down without getting sick. 

It was horrible.

Louis had come to know pain in places that he never thought would hurt. The pain medication they kept him on worked wonders, but sometimes they weren't enough. He just wanted everything to be done with. Sometimes he just didn't want to feel and, a lot of the time, the things he didn't want to feel were mental and emotional pains that nothing could help. They started him on a round of anti depressants when he started bringing up how he was feeling. They made things a little better, but not really.

His doctors eventually told him that the cancer was beginning to disappear and that they could start lowering the dosages of everything they had him on. They also warned him about the after effects of the different drugs, calling the brain fog he would experience 'cancer brain' and 'chemo brain' and telling him that he may never fully recover from that side effect. Louis figured that living with that was better than dying, so the trade off seemed fair in comparison.

The good news boosted his mood considerably.

He was finally willing to talk about Harry and their situation to anyone that would listen. At first, it had strictly been Zayn, and then eventually his mom. He told them that he missed Harry a lot more than he thought he would and that sometimes he wished things would;ve worked out between them so that they wouldn't have to get divorced. Louis told them he still loved him and that if Harry could right what he did wrong then he would take him back. That one didn't sit well with his mother.

Louis had to listen to her berate Harry. She called him everything under the sun and said that Louis was acting like a right fool for missing him; for still loving him and for still wanting him. She really made Louis feel like the worst biggest idiot.

She didn't understand, he thought. But, in reality, she did. She'd been there. 

Louis forgot that she'd been in a similar situation before when his father decided to leave her. He'd been a baby then. Still, he didn't think she had any right to tell him that he was stupid or talk about Harry the way she had. Getting over the love of your life wasn't something that was done over night and she needed to realize that.

It was while they were talking about a possible discharge if Louis' next scan came back without anything that Louis decided he was ready to talk to Harry. He'd been asking Elise about him and about their days together, but that wasn't enough. She gave only the briefest of answers. Louis listened to her like she was speaking the gospel because one, she's his daughter and he could listen to her all day; and two, he was curious to know how Harry was doing.

Elise didn't like talking about Harry because her Grandma Jay told her that Daddy wasn't supposed to talk to her Papa. Elise was sticking by that, despite Louis having told her it was fine to tell Harry about his progress and whatever else she wanted to tell him.

Louis caved, one day, when he was alone and left to his own devices. He'd been playing some stupid matching game on his phone and decided that enough was enough. He wanted to talk to Harry, so that's what he was going to do.

Louis picked up the phone and did the one thing he said that he wouldn't do. 

He called him.


	19. Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Louis in the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i decided i don't want to go to work today for reasons, so i decided to go ahead and update this instead. this is the last of the prewritten chapters, so it'll probably be longer between updates from here on out until i can write more than one at a time.
> 
> this chapter is similar to the last, but there's differences and stuff to push the plot on.
> 
> enjoy.

Every day was the same. 

At times the days blurred into one another; he hated those the most. He couldn't tell which day it was sometimes — not that it was a problem, but he didn't like losing track of time. It kind of sucked if he was being honest.

Without fail, the overnight nurse would come in for one final check up before getting off work, effectively waking him up at an ungodly hour. Typically it happened just after he'd fallen asleep and it left him convinced that they did it on purpose. That or they didn't like him. He couldn't decide.

Louis would then try to go back to sleep, dancing on the edge of being awake before allowing his dreams to take over once more. He wouldn't remember the dreams, but he was sure they were of better times than what he was actually experiencing. Anything had to be better than being prodded with needles and having tests run on a daily basis.

He wouldn't sleep long, though. The nurse for the next shift would come in to check his charts and see if he was doing okay. Louis would usually answer with a nod or mumble something along the lines of “I’ve been better” and try to make light of his situation. The nurse wouldn’t laugh or smile, but they would keep him from going back to sleep. He couldn’t understand why they kept him from sleeping, especially when that's all he wanted to do a lot of the time.

It would be hours before they brought his morning round of medication and a breakfast that he would only nibble on. His stomach stayed in knots, but because he was given clear instructions to eat with his medicine he ate just enough to satisfy the small appetite he had. Hospital food sucked; he said this to anyone that would listen at least three times a day and always when his meals arrived. Sometimes his sisters or Zayn would bring him something from outside — fast food, gas station food, homemade meals and snacks. All types of different things they thought he could stomach. He lived for those days, however few and far between they were.

There were only two things to eventually change up his stay in the hospital. 

One, he was put on a stronger depression medication and had started seeing a therapist a few times a week. She was an older woman that reminded him of his mother, except she didn't judge his life choices. She was just there for him to talk to, to get things off his chest and, when the moment was right, she would tell him exactly what she thought about certain situations or events. Louis appreciated what she had to say because she was someone looking in at his life with a different perspective and her own unbiased opinions.

Two, his phone calls to Harry. They had become the thing he looked forward to most. His calls started to be every few days after their initial conversation and eventually worked up to nearly every night. Louis would be lying if he said that he didn't get excited when thinking about calling Harry. Even if they didn't have anything to talk about, Louis still looked forward to talking to him after talking to Elise before she went to bed.

The most important thing they talked about, aside from Louis' sickness, was Harry also going to see someone. Louis explained to Harry that he needed to get his anger under control. He told his husband that he didn't like being Harry's verbal punching bag. Louis told him that working with a therapist had been one of the best thing the hospital could've done for him, and that eventually he hoped that he'd be able to forgive Harry for everything he'd been put through.

Harry didn't like that one much.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked him the same night Louis brought the topic up.

"Harry, you treated me horribly," Louis told him, coughing to clear his throat so he could continue, "you treated me like I wasn't worth the shirt on your back and got mad at me for literally doing nothing but breathing."

"Louis. I. What?" Harry asked, sounding completely dumbfounded on the other line.

"I don't know how much more I can elaborate, Harry." Louis said. He wanted Harry to understand the gravity of their situation and what they were risking by him not getting the help that he definitely needed to get. "You need to work on your anger problems. You have a really big problem with lashing out every time I say something you don't like. Also, you wouldn't listen to me then and I'm not sure if you're even listening to me now. That wasn't and isn't cool, H. If I'm fighting for my life and for another possible chance at us then you also need to fight."

"Why?" Harry questioned. Louis blinked. If Harry could see him or if they'd been video chatting then Harry would've definitely seen the pure look of confusion on his face at being asked why.

"Because, Harry," Louis sighed, trying to figure out the best way to explain things. "You blamed me for everything. You still haven't told me what I did. I have a right to know what I did to make you think that it was okay to cheat on me. Honestly, I'm not even sure I want to know, but in order for me to even start trying to forgive you I need to know. Hell, even then it might not be enough of a reason for me to forgive you."

"But, but... you said you still love me," Harry whispered.

"Sometimes love isn't enough." Louis' voice was colder, more stern, and Louis sounded more sure of himself and his resolve. It was not like how he normally spoke. "You have to understand, Harry, that sometimes love isn't going to fix everything. It takes time and trust, and right now? I don't trust you. I'm sorry, but I don't."

If silence could kill then Louis was sure he'd be a goner. He wasn't sure if Harry was there anymore or if he'd hung up. There wasn't even a hint of him breathing on the other line as Louis sat there in his hospital bed feeling smaller than he had in days.

"I understand," Harry finally spoke after several long minutes passed. Louis could hear the pain and despair in his voice. "I... I need to go."

That had been the last time Louis spoke to his husband. It'd been a few days and he was starting to worry. He still talked to Elise, of course, but she was very hush hush about Harry. Louis couldn't fault her for that.

Louis hoped that Harry had taken his advice to heart and decided to seek help. He wanted and he needed the younger man to get the help they both deserved. Harry needed to learn how to better channel his anger and his annoyance because Louis wasn't going to keep taking the blame for all of his problems.

Because, really, if he did then where would that leave them days, weeks, or even months down the road? Would Harry push him away again? Would Harry cheat on him a second time? There were a lot of what if scenarios and he didn't have any happy endings for them.

That conversation caused something to stir within Louis. It made him realize what he already kind of knew — that he deserved better. He deserved to be treated with love, kindness, and respect. He deserved to have the happiness that had been stolen from him. If that happiness wasn't with Harry then, well, that's that. Louis wasn't sure how it made him to feel to finally start not caring whether or not he could find happiness again with Harry.

Harry obviously seemed reluctant to get help. Louis had always known that his husband could be a stubborn bastard when he wanted to be, but he'd never known him to outright deny that he had a big character flaw. It was one that had only emerged over the last seven or eight months. Harry being full of anger was a recent development and not one that he'd ever shown before. Louis couldn't recall a single incident prior to Harry cheating on him where his husband was a bundle of rage waiting to explode.

That wasn't his Harry. That was a version of Harry that Louis didn't know, didn't want to know, and had no desire to continue knowing. He hoped, for the sake of their broken marriage and possible reconciliation, that Harry was taking the necessary steps to get over whatever it was that was ailing him. He needed to deal with his demons while Louis dealt with his own.

Louis stayed stuck on that conversation for days. He picked apart the way Harry sounded, the words that he said and how he hung up on Louis without saying goodbye. Piece by piece Louis was able to say that Harry was confused and that he thought they'd worked their problems out on their own, but that hadn't been the case. Just because the older man was giving Harry another chance didn't mean much in the grand scheme of things.

Louis had to tell himself to stop focusing so much on Harry and what was happening between them for the sake of his sanity. He needed to keep his mind on battling, on living, on healing — all things that would hopefully lead to a positive health check up.

Chemo, radiology and therapy sessions continued on; his doctors got back to him saying they weren't totally happy with his counts. Some days, despite them lower his medication and the radiation doses, seemed far too aggressive. Louis would be left sick and feeling some type of way.

They were nearing the middle of December and Louis was starting to come to the realization that he was probably going to be stuck in the hospital on his birthday and on Christmas day. He'd had hopes that he would get to go home, but with his cell counts stalling, the doctors didn't know if it was a good idea to release him. They kept telling him that the next time they ran tests they hoped for better news. Louis knew better than to get his hopes up.

He wasn't going home.

Test day one turned into test day two and, while his doctors told him a little bit of promising news, they were still afraid. They upped his medications again and told him that they never should've lowered them. They told him that if this helped then he would be in the clear. His medical files would be transferred back to his primary cancer doctor and he could go back to weekly visits while living at home. Louis prayed that things worked out in his favor because he was honestly tired of everything. He was definitely tired of full time hospital living.

He told his therapist as much when she came to visit him. He explained to her that he was ready to be with his family; he missed his daughter and he wanted to be there for her choir concert, and for his birthday. Christmas, also. She told him that she understood and changed the subject, asking him if he had talked to Harry since the last time she saw him. He had not. Harry had gone off the grid and, for all purposes, was completely ghosting him. Louis didn't know what happened — no surprises there.

Why was it that Harry could never explain things to him?

He never told Louis what he did wrong that made him fall into the arms of a woman he'd barely known. Harry never told Louis why he invited Kendall into their house that evening. He never actually told Louis that he still loved him and just hinted at it from time to time, throwing pretty words his way and Louis stupidly ate them up.

He was kind of over it the way he was over everything else.

Maybe one day Harry would open up to him. Maybe one day Harry would get help. Louis didn't know if he wanted to wait until that day.


	20. Twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family time. Harry in denial and then not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. sorry for the long wait. i truly apologize. i didn't mean to seem like i abandoned this, but life got in the way. i haven't written any chapters other than this one and the next beginning of the next one. i've been picking up more hours at work and doing random things for money to help my brother because he's at risk of losing his job due to covid and if that happens then he loses his house and, blah blah. adult problems. sorry for the rant/excuses.
> 
> i don't like this chapter much, but its what came out when i finally sat down to write.
> 
> enjoy.

Harry couldn't believe it. 

He couldn't believe what he'd heard.

Louis wanted him to start seeing someone. He really wanted him to seek professional help. This wasn't something he ever needed in the past, so he was having a hard time trying to process Louis' request that he see someone. Harry thought that just because Louis was talking to somebody that didn't necessarily equate to him having to as well. He couldn't believe that Louis had the audacity to suggest such a thing.

Granted, Harry knew that he had a mean streak and that he could hold angry grudges for far too long, but he didn't think that warranted him needing to talk to someone. He got over things eventually, and on his own time, so this was one thing he decided to refuse. He didn't see the point in it.

\- X -

It'd been a few days since he last talked to Louis. He wasn't ignoring him, but he also wasn't actively making any effort to get in touch with him either. Harry knew that he still called because it was his phone that Elise used to talk to him. That was the closest they'd been to speaking since that night. Elise never gave him the phone back with his husband still on the phone, and Louis never called back to talk to him like he used to do.

Harry would be lying if he said it didn't bother him.

He knew that he could easily pick up the phone to call Louis, as the older man kept his phone with him at all times, but Harry didn't want to. He was still annoyed at him for suggesting that he get help. Harry didn't need help; he didn't need someone to talk to — he didn't need a stranger to tell his problems to. A stranger that wouldn't even care anyway and would only see dollar signs as they looked at him. That's all they cared about, he thought.

Harry knew that he was being childish, but he didn't care. He was going to stand his ground on this one.

The alarm he'd set on his phone to tell him his work day was over rang out loudly in his office. It brought Harry out of his thoughts, blinking and fumbling around with his phone to turn it off. He'd gotten in the habit of turning on an alarm so that he could get home in time to get chores done and dinner started before Elise got home.

Harry gathered his things, turned off his laptop and then the lights to his office before he opened the door to leave. Ginger was sitting at her desk and organizing things for the next day as he exited the room. He turned to her, waving and bidding her a good rest of her day. She always left after he did. He found himself periodically wondering what she was doing to stay late, but he never asked her as he was afraid she wouldn't give him answer or would want to talk too long.

The house was quiet, like it always was, as he toed off his shoes and tossed his keys onto the table. He took the stairs two at a time while undoing his tie and removing his suit jacket. On a normal day he would place it back on the hanger and hang it on the back of the bedroom door, but today was different. He threw the jacket over the back of Louis' desk chair as he sat down on the end of the bed, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

The entire drive home had him lost in his thoughts. He mulled over everything that Louis told him the last time they spoke. Harry thought back to that conversation several times since he hung up on his husband in a rush to get off the phone and be alone, but he never spent enough time doing hard thinking or analyzing Louis' words. Harry was struggling to wrap his mind around the things that had been said to him.

Here it was, days later, and he still couldn't grasp the idea of seeing someone. While he knew that it was a thing people did, Harry just couldn't picture any type of therapy or counseling for himself. Well, outside of marriage counseling, that is. The only reason he was okay with that was because Louis brought it up once before, explaining in detail over a few conversations that it would be a good thing for them — it could possibly help their marriage.

However, seeing someone just because Louis didn't like a part of him? Absolutely not. There was nothing wrong with him. If Louis didn't want him for who he was then he just didn't see the point in trying anymore.

Harry flopped back on the bed, his arms coming up to rest above his head. He stared at the ceiling, green eyes tracing the blades on the fan. He was about to get lost in his thoughts once again, but the front door opening kept that from happening. Harry listened as Elise shut the door and made her way up the stairs, little _click-clack_ sounds coming from the shoes she picked out that morning. She stopped at his door long enough to see if he was there and. to her surprise, he was.

"Daddy!" Elise said loudly, forgetting her indoor voice and dropping her backpack onto the hallway floor outside his door. She darted into the room and jumped up onto the bed, coming to sit next to his head. Elise leaned over him, her hair failing down around her face.

"Hi, baby." Harry greeted, blinking up at her.

Elise smiled down at him; he noticed that she'd lost a tooth. The gap in her mouth was cute as she started to giggle for no reason, eyes wide and bright, watching him the way she used to when she was younger. Harry wondered what was going through her head. He hoped she was thinking good things.

She started poking the side of his face, forcing him to smile so that she could repeatedly poke his dimple. Harry laughed at that before surprise attacking her. He gently grabbed her with one hand and brought her down to the bed as he stood up, his fingers tickling her sides as she squealed and squirmed. Elise laughed — genuine, whole body laughter — as she tried to escape by kicking at him.

"Daddy. Daddy. Daddy!" Elise cried out, still laughing and grabbing both of his hands with her much smaller ones. He pulled back, dragging her up so that she was sitting in front of him.

"Yes, El?" Harry asked, looking down at her with an eyebrow raised.

"I think we should go out to eat," she stated matter-of-factly. The tone of her voice left no room to argue as she nodded, very much pleased with herself for coming up with the idea.

"Do you?" Harry questioned, arching his back and popping his joints. He sat down next to her, crossing his legs and folding his hands in his lap.

"I do!" she exclaimed.

"Where do you want to go?" Harry asked her, placing a hand atop her head and smoothing her hair down. She leaned into the touch, humming as she thought and then shrugged. "Well, love, I need you to figure it out so that I know where to go."

"I'll think of a place!" Elise shouted as she jumped off the bed and ran towards the door. Harry could hear her little shouts of _yes!_ as she ran down the hallway to her room. He couldn't help but laugh. 

It was the small things that mattered.

\- X -

Harry quietly shut the door to Elise's room as he entered the darkened hallway. She had asked him while they were on the way home if he would read to her before bed. Harry agreed, asking her what book she wanted him to read and telling her that he would read to her every night if she wanted him to. Elise said that was too much, but told him that sometimes was fine.

She never did tell him what book she wanted him to read.

Harry sighed as he slipped into his room, closing his own door before starting to strip down for the night. He grabbed a pair of boxers on his way to the bathroom to shower before going to bed. The hot water was exactly what he needed to help ease the tension in his shoulders and back. Each and every time a hot droplet of water hit his skin he felt just that much lighter. Standing there under the shower, Harry closed his eyes and let his mind drift.

He thought back to the night he shared with his daughter. Elise begged him for ice cream, despite it being cold outside, and asked him if they could sit outside the shop to eat it. Harry wanted to stay inside, but he did as he wanted because it made her happy. He wanted her happy always.

He hadn't seen her that happy in such a long time. A part of him knew that it was all his fault. He did that to her. He took that happiness away from her. Harry would do anything to keep her happy like she'd been all night — he wanted to keep the smile on her face at all times.

Harry's thoughts eventually found their way to Louis', where they stalled and refused to move onto something else. 

Louis told him that he wasn't sure they'd ever make it because love could only do so much. That broke Harry's heart more than he'd like to admit, but he liked to think that he was beginning to understand where Louis was coming from. He wished he'd understood it back when Louis told him the first time.

Louis told him once that they would have to work as a team to fix things between them, but that they would have to start by working on one another first before they could work together. Harry didn't understand it at the time, but he knew what it meant now. Louis had been suggesting for a while that he get help and Harry, well, he didn't pay enough attention and just told Louis that he would do whatever it takes.

Well, refusing to get help was not doing whatever — it was doing nothing but pushing them farther apart. Harry didn't want that to happen. The gap between them was already wide enough and he was afraid that eventually he wouldn't be able to close it.

Harry knew he had an anger problem. It hadn't always been there, but it was there now and he had no idea how to stop being so angry. He knew that he needed help to get to to the bottom of it, but talking to someone he didn't know about everything scared him. Would they judge him? How would they help him? Harry had questions that he was too afraid to get answers for.

Admitting he had a problem, Harry figured, was a step in the right direction. He just hoped that he wasn't too late in realizing it.

Harry didn't know he was crying until he felt the water grow cold. He hurriedly washed up before getting out and drying off. Once he deemed himself good enough, despite his hair still dripping down his back and onto his shoulders, he turned off the bathroom light and slipped into bed, pulling the duvet over his body. Harry rolled over to the middle of the bed and grabbed one of Louis' pillow, hugging it tightly to his chest. He let his tears fall freely as he promised the dark that he'd get the help Louis wanted him to get.

He hoped that promise would reach somehow reach Louis as he closed his eyes and let sleep take him. He'd start looking around for the right person to go to in the morning, but until then he would dream of better times and mumble his resolve into Louis' pillow.


	21. Twenty One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn visits. Some slightly good news. Another letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. this chapter started one way and ended differently than what i intended. oh well. though, i fully intended for harry to reciprocate louis' letter. haha.
> 
> there's a lot of dialog in this one, just a heads up. next chapter is back to harry's point of view. i'm sincerely sorry for switching point of views so often, but its needed for the sake of the story.
> 
> fun fact, when i originally started writing this years ago the only songs i would listen to before making an entire playlist were say something by a great big world and christina, amnesia by 5sos, cat & mouse by the red jumpsuit apparatus, and the tide by the spill canvas. the more you know. lol.
> 
> enjoy.

Louis' eyes watched the little box TV with zero interest as his nurse walked out of the room. She left his breakfast on the tray next to his bed, but he made no attempt to take it. His stomach was torn up and he didn't want to take a chance on anything, instead opting to chew on pieces of ice left in the large container beside the food on the tray. Ice never failed him or let him down.

The sound was muffled as he zoned out, eyes unfocused as he started daydreaming about the day he'd get to finally leave the hospital. Louis told himself that he was only going to tell Zayn, his Mom, and his siblings about being discharged. He wanted to surprise Elise by coming home while she was still in school before it let out for Christmas vacation, but he didn't see that ever happening. They still couldn't give him the news he wanted. Louis wasn't sure if that meant he was getting worse or if it was because they just didn't want to risk him leaving their care. Either way, it sucked.

Then again, even if he they did release him, Louis wasn't sure where he would go once he got to leave. He still wasn't on speaking terms with Harry, so clearly that meant he couldn't go home. It meant that he'd have to find somewhere else to go. Zayn would probably take him in, but he didn't want to burden his best friend. Also, Louis wanted to be surrounded by familiar things, his daughter — Harry, too, even though the younger man was avoiding him at the moment. Those things were at _his_ home.

Louis knew that things between them would never be the same, and he'd come to the decision that whatever happened was for the best. It hurt, but that's how life was. Harry didn't seem as if he cared enough to fight for them and it was taking everything in Louis to want to continue on his end. He'd eventually give up, he knew, but he just didn't know when he would.

\- X -

"Lou," Zayn started, shutting the hospital door behind him. He shook his head when Louis didn't say anything in response or make a noise indicating that he knew his best friend was there. Louis being off in his own world had become a common occurrence.

"Louis," he tried again as he sat down on the couch underneath the window, dropping his messenger bag on the floor. Between the faux leather creaking as he sat down and the soft thump of his bag, one of the sounds brought Louis out of his head. Zayn offered a small smile and a quick wave in his direction. "Hey. Welcome back."

Louis rolled his eyes. "The fuck, Z? I didn't go anywhere."

"You clearly weren't here when I walked in, so again, welcome back." Zayn said. "I've been here for like an hour, y'know."

Louis looked at him like he had three heads. There was absolutely no way an entire hour had gone by. He refused to believe that.

"You're lying," Louis deadpanned, sitting up and pulling the scratchy hospital blanket tightly around his body. He blindly reached for the ice container and grabbed a few pieces, popping them into his mouth.

"How would you know?" Zayn asked him. He stretched out along the couch, his legs hanging off the end closest to Louis, while he rested his head on a pillow that Louis always had sitting on the couch for him on the opposite side. Zayn faced him, one hand behind his head and the other playing with the cord to the blinds covering the window. Louis had them closed today.

"I... uh, I just would." Louis tried and failed, hanging his head down against his chest. He recently realized that he hated being caught off guard, and Zayn catching him zoning out was no exception.

"It's okay, Lou. It happens to the best of us." Zayn comforted him.

"If you say so," the older man replied with a sigh.

"I do." Zayn said. "I am curious, though. Where were you?"

Louis lifted his head then and looked at the dark haired man. Blue eyes searched the room, trying to find something to focus on as his embarrassment subsided and he was left unsure of how he'd like to answer Zayn. He eventually caught sight of a message left on the dry erase board in his room that the nurses shared and wrote notes on. It was a semi positive message scribbled in barely legible handwriting, but the meaning was all the same once Louis worked it out. Louis wanted to appreciate it, he really did. It said something about tomorrow always having a brighter outcome than today. However, he didn't believe that because, to him, every day was the same and the only thing that would make any difference would be getting told that he could leave.

"I don't know where I was," Louis admitted after a few minutes. "I was still here, but my thoughts were loud and, yeah."

"I get it." Zayn told him. "Do you feel like talking about it?"

"Are they paying you now, too?" Louis asked teasingly with laughter backing his words.

"They should, considering how much I put up with from you. Honestly, Lou. Tell them to hire me."

That made Louis laugh more. Sometimes seeing Zayn was all he needed to feel just the slightest bit better about everything. "I'll see what I can do."

"Appreciate it," he said. "But, for real, tell me what you were thinking about." Zayn sat up, scooting to the other side of the couch so that he was sitting closer to Louis.

Louis pursed his lips, pondering over whether or not he really felt like unloading onto his best friend. He could talk to him about anything and everything; he could also talk his therapist about the things bothering him. But, with Zayn sitting directly in front to him, hands folding across his lap and one foot tapping on the floor, Louis felt that talking to someone he knew was a good idea. At least, he reckoned with himself that talking to someone that knew some of his struggles on a personal level would help him figure out what he wanted to do about things.

"I really don't know what to say," Louis said. "There's just so much going on up there that it feels like my brain never shuts up."

"Start small," Zayn told him. "Save the best for last."

"Small, huh?" Louis chuckled lightly. "I don't know if anything in my head would be considered small, to be honest."

"I'm sure there's something like "oh, I didn't want to wake up at five" in your head. Something stupid," Zayn tried to explain, mocking Louis playfully.

Louis huffed out a laugh, rolling his eyes. "Let me tell you about that bullshit, Z. I swear that they wake me up early as fuck just to be assholes. Like, I don't sleep enough as it is because this bed is god awful and I can never get comfortable, but when I finally fall asleep there they are busting up in here and wanting to draw blood and shit." Louis crossed his arms over his chest, breathing in deeply, annoyed.

"Let. Me. Sleep." He said, whining slightly and putting emphasis on each word as he spoke. Zayn wanted to laugh at his mini rant, but he kept it to himself.

"See, that's starting small." Zayn told him, nodding his head in approval. "What else?"

"The food sucks. It's been forever, Zayn. I swear, if I ever make it out of here I don't want anything remotely close to hospital food again in my life." Louis motioned beside him to the tray that still had his breakfast sitting on it. The only things he'd touched had been a few pieces fruit and an unbuttered slice of toast.

Zayn listened to him speak. He listened to Louis talk about how nonchalant his therapist was and how she avoided certain topics when he wanted to talk about them. Louis told him that she never let him talk about going home, claiming that she'd told him it gave him false hopes and he didn't need any of that until he was more certain about being able to leave. Louis tried to tell her that she needed to tell the doctors to stop bringing it up to him every single fucking day, but he didn't because they wouldn't listen anyway. 

Louis liked and appreciated his therapist, he really did, but sometimes she only wanted to talk about things that interested her. Sometimes it was drama with Harry, which was basically moot at this point since they hadn't talked in quite some time. Sometimes she would ask about his job, his family, or his past. Louis didn't mind talking about these things, but there were times when he really didn't see why it was necessary.

"Louis, do you think she's just trying to get a feel for who you are?" Zayn asked him curiously. "I mean, she's here to help you, so naturally she's going to want background information on you and everyone in your life."

"I know, Z. But, like, what good does talking about the time I got super stoned before going to the movies with Harry have to do with my life currently?" Louis questioned. Zayn could only shrug.

An hour passed as they talked. Louis didn't bother bringing Harry up because he'd previously told him everything the last he came to visit. They hadn't been speaking, so that was that. There was nothing to tell. Louis hoped that Harry had gotten his head out of his own ass, but a part of him didn't find that likely.

A nurse interrupted them at one point to remove his breakfast, shaking her head at the full plate and looking disapprovingly at Louis. She spent five minutes telling him how he needed to eat to keep himself from getting sick. In turn, he tried to explain that he was already sick and the food didn't sit right in his stomach. Another one of his many nurses interrupted them to look at Louis' charts, asking him if he wanted Zayn to stay in the room or not while she drew some more blood and told him that the doctor would be in to see him shortly. Zayn stayed.

"I think," Louis started, using the remote on the side of the bed to bring the mattress upwards so that he could lean back against it. "My biggest problem with being here is that I want to go home, Z. But... the thing is that I don't know where home is anymore." Louis' voice was barely a whisper as he spoke the last sentence.

Zayn looked at him with his eyebrows drawn, confusion quickly fluttering over his face. "What do you mean?"

"Harry and I aren't on good terms, you know that." Louis said. Zayn simply nodded. "I want to go home, but where's home? My home was always in Harry's house, but since we're not even talking anymore I don't know what I'm supposed to do or where I'm supposed to go if they release me."

"You can't go to your Mom's?" Zayn asked.

"I could, but she doesn't approve of me wanting to work things out with Harry. I love her to death, Z, don't get me wrong, but I feel like that environment probably wouldn't be good for me if I ever started talking to him again. She'd probably lose her mind."

"Fair point." Zayn agreed. Adding as an afterthought, "you could always stay with me."

"I wouldn't want to do that to you, Zayn." Louis said truthfully. "You've already done so much for me and I couldn't ask that of you. You have your life, your job — you have Liam. I'd just be in the way."

"You wouldn't be," Zayn muttered, barely loud enough for Louis to hear.

"I appreciate it, though. So much." Louis smiled at him, reaching out with one hand and making a grabby motion at his best friend. Zayn took his hand, standing as Louis pulled him over to the bed, where he sat down, mindful of the cords connected to and surrounding Louis. "Whatever happens, I'll figure something out."

At the same time, they both spoke. Zayn saying " _you always do_ ", while Louis said " _I always do_ ". They both laughed at that, Louis calling jinx after several short moments. Zayn told him they were too old for jinx, but Louis blew him off by sticking his tongue out.

Time passed by them comfortably and, before either of them knew it, the doctor was coming into the room for Louis' afternoon check up. He asked if Louis wanted Zayn to stay or leave the room. Naturally, Louis told him that Zayn was family and anything the doctor had to tell him he could say in front of Zayn.

"Well, Mr. Tomlinson," the doctor started, looking down at his clipboard. "You'll be happy to know that everything is good. Your numbers are looking great."

"That's good." Louis said, playing with Zayn's fingers as the doctor flipped through the papers he brought with him.

"It is, yes. So much, in fact, that we're going to be reviewing everything later today to see if we can get you home in time for the holidays. You've been fighting so hard and your body has taken to the medications, chemo, and radiation better than most patients. I don't see what's stopping you being able to go home."

Louis' mouth fell open and his heart was beating so loudly he wasn't sure he was actually able to make out what the doctor was telling him. Louis vaguely felt Zayn's hand squeeze his own, but he did hear Zayn tell him to calm down or risk setting off the heart monitor — Louis was a pro at doing that. The doctor jokingly told him that there was no better time to set it off than at that moment with him in the room. That brought Louis back to the current, where he could feel tears gathering in his eyes and threatening to spill. Just the idea of finally being able to leave made him emotional. Of course, it came with stipulations that he already knew about. He'd still have to see doctors back home, but he wouldn't be a full time resident anymore. That was all he wanted.

The doctor continued to go over everything with Louis, telling him that they'd have word on his discharge later that evening or early the next morning. Louis thanked him for everything that he'd done for him — he thanked him for the care, the nurses, the therapist, everything he could thank him for, even when it had absolutely nothing to do with this particular doctor. The man took it all in stride, nodding his head. Louis let his hopes get up again, despite the possibility of them coming in to tell him no for a second time. He'd gotten his hopes so much that he asked Zayn to come get him if he got word that he could leave. Zayn, of course, agreed and said that he'd use some of his paid time to take off work — he told Louis that he'd do anything for him.

The door shut behind the doctor and Louis instantly started crying, his head in hands as his body shook. Zayn wrapped his arms around him awkwardly, bringing their bodies closer together so that Louis could cry onto his shoulder and hopefully be more comfortable.

It took a moment or two for Louis to calm down enough to talk, gulping in air and hiccupping. "If this how I acted being told that I'm being reviewed to go home, then can you imagine how I'm going to be if they tell me I can leave?"

"I can imagine you're going to be ten times worse," Zayn said with a smile. "Try not to die if they tell you that you can leave."

"Wouldn't that be some shit," Louis laughed, wiping a stray tear from his face.

\- X -

As the afternoon progressed, the sun falling behind the clouds and trees, Zayn told Louis that he had one last thing for him. A surprise, of sorts, that was brought solely for him. Louis arched an eyebrow at him, silently asking what he was talking about.

"Okay, don't get mad at me, Lou." Zayn started. That one sentence alone made him want to get mad just for principle, but his spirits were still too high from earlier. "I've been in contact with Harry."

"W-what?" Louis stuttered, jaw dropping and instantly coming down from cloud nine. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah," Zayn said sheepishly. "He reached out to me a few days ago and wanted to talk, so I agreed to meet up with him. We spoke, he told me everything from his point of view and — Lou, don't look at me like that — I think it went okay, even though he's not one of my favorite people."

"Well, what happened?" Louis asked, glaring at Zayn.

"I'm going to let him tell you that," the younger man said. He reached down beside the bed, leaning over slightly to grab the messenger bag he'd abandoned hours before. Zayn opened it, shuffling around until his fingers came in contact with what he was looking for.

Louis watched Zayn with interest. His eye were glued to the bag as Zayn rummaged around its insides. Louis audibly gasped as Zayn pulled out the very same notebook that he'd written his letter to Harry in. "What the fuck, Zayn?"

"Harry said to give this to you." Zayn told him. "He said he wanted to do it this way because it makes things easier and that he knows he's being a coward by not doing it directly, but he said he felt like this was something he needed to do. Said you would understand."

"I do, yeah." Louis nodded, taking the notebook from Zayn and gingerly placing it in his lap. He ran his hands along the top, his fingers skipping over the spirals as Zayn stood up from the bed.

"I better get going, Lou." Zayn said. "It's a decent drive home and I need sleep in case I have to come back to get you tomorrow."

"Okay," Louis said, briefly looking up at him. Normally, he would be against Zayn leaving, but he was letting his curiosity get the best of him. He wanted to be alone with the notebook. "I'll call you later if they come back today. If not, it'll be tomorrow sometime. Text me when you get home, though. Please."

"Will do," his best friend answered. He grabbed his bag, slung the strap over his shoulder, and exited the room. The door shut quietly behind him.

Louis was left with the notebook sitting in his lap; it felt all too familiar as he stared down at the object. Louis wondered what he'd find when he opened it. Would his letter still be there? Would it be gone? Did Harry add in his own notes to what he'd written? Did Harry write his own letter?

He wanted desperately to find out, but that would have to wait because the door to his room opened once more, revealing two of his doctors. They walked in wearing matching expressions that Louis was having a hard time identifying.


	22. Twenty Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finally starts getting help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi.
> 
> i'm sorry for disappearing. i got super depressed for a few months and once i came out of that depression episode and decided to start writing again i got depressed over the fact that i'd practically abandoned this fic. i never wanted that to happen. every time i tried to sit down to write i would get intimidated and decide maybe tomorrow, but that never came. i've planned out the next couple chapters and i've been working on them, so hopefully there isn't a large gap between them again. i'm really sorry.
> 
> niall is finally here!

Day 1.

Harry had no idea what he was doing. He didn't even know where to begin. It felt like he was stuck under water and desperately trying to swim when he didn't know how to do so. Realistically, Harry knew how to swim, but knowing how to do something and actually doing it were two totally different things. Harry really needed to get his head above the surface and figure out what he was doing. Pronto.

Harry needed help. In almost ever sense of the word, truthfully. Mostly, he needed help with the initial steps of figuring out what he was doing, and where to start so that he could officially begin to get the help he was in search of.

Logically, the first course of action was to call someone that he could trust with these kinds of things — preferably someone that wouldn't judge him or tell him that he's over reacting by not knowing what to do. However, there were only two people that he trusted completely and he absolutely didn't want to contact either of them; it was time to did something for himself instead of leaning on other people for guidance. 

The first person that he would've tried was his Mom, but she wasn't even aware that things between them had gone sour. Harry had purposely failed to tell her that their marriage was on the rocks. He knew that she would disappointed in him and he didn't want another person that he considered important feeling that way about him — he was already disappointed enough in himself.

The other person Harry wanted to contact, wanted to talk to more than anything, was Louis. He, however, told himself that speaking to his husband was forbidden until he could prove to Louis that he was trying; that he was seeking the help needed to get better so they could attempt to start their journey towards fixing everything between them.

Louis deserved that much from him. If not more.

Harry sighed, green eyes scanning the paper laying in front of him on the kitchen table. It was full of phone numbers for a plethora of therapists. Each one had a name, what they specialized in, and a number for him to call. The idea of calling any one of them was enough to make him want to give up — let Louis move on from the disaster that he was and is. However, the rational part of him that wanted Louis back was able to override that decision, telling Harry that the right thing to do was pick up the phone and call someone. That side of Harry wasn't going to go down without a fight.

"Okay, you can do this," Harry muttered to himself, squeezing one hand into a fist as it rested on his leg under the table. He decided that the best way to go about things was to use the element of surprise as he closed his eyes and moved his index finger along the list of names until he counted to five and called the first one he landed on.

\- X -

Day 2.

The very first person he called was the one he went with. The man he briefly spoke to a day prior had been nice enough on the other end of the phone, telling Harry that he called the right person and promising to help him get to the root of his issues. Harry figured that he told every possible client this, but the way the other man came off completely sealed the deal for him.

Harry had a therapist. He had someone to talk to that didn't know him and, therefore, couldn't judge him on a personal level.

Randomly selecting and calling the first person he landed was how he found himself sitting in the waiting room of a small building in an office park and scrolling through his phone. He'd originally been handed a clipboard with papers for him to fill out; they'd taken him no time to finish. It was all a bunch of standard information — name, birthday, address, medical information and if he was on any type of medications, insurance that could possibly cover the cost of his treatment — basic things that almost every place asked.

The receptionist, a young woman that looked like she only worked part time, informed him that the current client in the office with the therapist had fifteen minutes left when he walked in, up to her desk, and gave his appointment time. Harry was relieved to find that he was a little bit early. It gave him time to try to calm his nerves.

Harry tapped his foot against the carpet floor, paying close attention to the beat that he'd created as he got lost in his thoughts, his phone abandoned, screen dark and weightless in his hand. Harry wondered what his first session was going to be like. Would they use this hour as an introduction? Would he have Harry jump right in to what was going on in his life? Harry had never been in this kind of situation before, so he honestly had no idea how things were supposed to go. All he knew was that he wasn't prepared to unload everything during the first session, and that he felt out of a place. A feeling that he could admit he wasn't exactly familiar with.

Harry didn't like being filled with what if scenarios and uncertainty.

"Mr. Styles," a male voice infiltrated his inner monologue, bringing Harry back to the present.

Harry shot up from his chair in the corner of the room, nestled under an a flat screen TV that wasn't even turned on. He stood up so quickly that he almost made himself dizzy. This didn't go unnoticed by the man, his new therapist, he assumed. Harry felt his face heat up as the man lightly chuckled.

"In here, Mr. Styles," the man said to him as he turned back into office. Harry silently followed him, entering the room merely seconds later and standing awkwardly by the door as it was closed behind him.

If Harry had felt out of place in the waiting room then he definitely felt like he belonged on Mars at this point.

"Have a seat."

Harry nodded slightly, sitting down in the worn out beige recliner that the therapist pointed at. He was stiff, sitting with his back straight, hands clasped together in his lap, and feet planted firmly on the floor beneath him. Harry was sure he looked stupid.

"If it helps you relax, I'm Niall," the therapist — no, Niall — said, introducing himself with an amused glint in his eyes. "These things tend to work better when you're comfortable."

"'m Harry," he said quietly in return, leaning back in the recliner and placing his hands on the arms of the chair. Niall simply nodded, watching the brunet to get a read on him.

"So, Harry — is it alright if I call you Harry?" Niall asked, tapping his pen to a beat in his head against the notebook in his lap.

"Harry's fine," he answered.

"Okay, great. Here's what's going to happen today," Niall started, briefly looking down at his open notebook before directing his gaze to Harry. "We're going to get to know one another. I feel like this makes me feel more like a person you can talk to willingly versus someone you feel obligated to talk to because you're paying me. Does that make sense? It made sense in my head."

Harry found himself smiling just enough to ease the awkwardness of the room, telling Niall that he did, in fact, make sense. He watched Niall sigh, clearly relieved that he came across the way that he intended, before asking the first of many questions he'd come to ask throughout the rest of his time. "Are we going to play twenty questions?"

"We're going to play as many questions as we can in the next, uh..." Niall glanced up at the clock on the wall behind Harry's head, "forty minutes. Sound good?"

"Yeah." Harry replied, relaxing just a little bit more.

Niall had a calming presence, despite Harry not knowing anything about him other than his name, or if he was actually as docile as he appeared to be. Niall, who for all purposes, was barely dressed in a way that said he was a professional at what he did. He wore loose fitting jeans and an Eagles tour shirt under a black blazer. The shoes he wore were a basic pair of sneakers; probably a pair that he'd worn a lot if Harry was going by the scuff marks on the front. His hair was brushed in the way where it appeared like it had been intentionally left messy. Harry figured the casual approach was probably more forthcoming and less intimidating.

"Are there any rules?" Harry asked.

"Nah, that wouldn't make things any fun," Niall responded. "You can go first."

Harry blinked, his mind blanking. He hadn't expected to go first, assuming that Niall would want to go first. Apparently, though, that wasn't the case. Odd. Harry wasn't going to press it.

Instead, Harry cleared his throat. "Why the Eagles shirt?"

Niall looked down at himself, eyes raking over his shirt, a small smile playing on his lips. That wasn't a question he was expecting to be asked. Still, he shrugged and looked up, eyes locking on Harry across from him. "I like, no wait — I love their music."

Harry felt like Niall wanted to say more, but he held back. Maybe for the sake of time, he guessed.

"Do you like music, Harry?" Niall asked him.

"I do. Actually, I love music. there really isn't anything that I won't listen to," Harry truthfully told him. If this was how the game was going to go then Harry had no problems playing. "What was your dream job?"

"I wanted to sing," Niall said, an eyebrow raised. "Growing up I wanted to be a singer, but I had a bad case of stage fright. Still love singing, though."

"Maybe one day," Harry told him. "I'll be your first fan when you become famous."

Niall couldn't help but laugh at that.

The rest of the hour went by in similar fashion. Harry answered, asked a question, and then it was Niall's turn. The questions remained relatively safe, despite them not being the typical ones asked when introducing oneself. There were no favorite anything, no would you rathers, and no which do you prefer questions. Niall was slightly relieved with the way Harry played along as he'd found that he was tired of the generic questions and answers most people used.

Those were safer than the safest ones from Harry.

The point in the game, which Niall didn't tell Harry, was for him to grasp who Harry was as a person instead of asking for a self introduction, who do you think you are approach. Niall found that he was able to learn more about a person this way. He also used this as a way to predict how future sessions would go, assuming that Harry would continue to see him. 

Harry would be a tough one to crack, he knew, but Niall could see that Harry was clearly showing signs of wanting someone to reach out to him. Harry was waiting for someone to bring him back from the edge that he'd placed himself on. Niall knew it wasn't going to be easy to get through to Harry, but he had total confidence in himself — he'd provide Harry with the help he was looking for.

In the end, Harry agreed to see him. They agreed to three days a week. Monday, Wednesday, Friday. It wasn't something that he did, as most people he only saw once a week, but he told Harry that he was a special case. Niall told him that he wanted to work with Harry more to better understand his situation and provide the best help he could, to which Harry eagerly accepted.

Outside, Harry sat in his car. For once the silence wasn't overwhelming. Harry, for the first time in a long while, turned on the radio to enjoy and sing along to during his trip home. It'd only been one session — one short hour — with Niall, but Harry felt like the weight on his shoulders was already starting to lift. He felt that he could do this, no matter how difficult it would become at times. He could finally be the person he used to be or find some semblance to the that he was before things started to fall apart. Harry could finally tell Louis that he was trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wasn't gonna do this, but i figured what the hell.
> 
> i'm on twitter at sailorbaku if anyone wants to stay in contact or be like "update!!" when i stop posting again. i mainly retweet anime, video games, bts, and louis/harry content, but i'm down for being reminded that i need to stop abandoning my fics lol


	23. Twenty Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into Harry's therapy sessions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi.
> 
> this chapter is all over the place. i apologize. i was in my feels when i wrote a lot of this, so if it gets emotional in spots then just know that i was a mess writing it because of things not relevant to the fic. i think it turned out okay.
> 
> fun fact, the place i have them living in my head is a county outside of my home city. haha.
> 
> i also have a stupid little oneshot coming out soon for these two. its dumb and not what i usually write lol
> 
> enjoy.

Session 2 - Friday.

Harry startled when the door closed behind him. He turned around to see Niall looking at him with a slightly guilty expression, his lips turning upwards just enough for Harry to see that he was trying not to laugh at him jumping. Had it not been Harry getting scared, he probably would've wanted to laugh as well. Sometimes the simplest things were the funniest.

"So, Harry," Niall started as he walked over to the couch, sitting down in the same spot he had two days prior. "How've things been over the last couple days?"

Harry claimed the same spot he had before, sitting down just as awkwardly as he had the first time in Niall's office. He didn't think he'd ever get used to this. Maybe one day, but that day wouldn't be any time soon.

"They've been..." Harry trailed off, unsure of how to answer him. He wanted to tell him how things had gone once he'd gotten home after their first session, but he felt weird talking about it.

"I see." Niall said, tapping his pen against his thigh. "Well, my days have been interesting. Talking to people and all, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know," Harry muttered. "People are always fun."

Niall perked up at that. Harry fell right into his trap and giving him a new direction to take things so that he could learn more about him. "Harry, if you don't mind my asking, what is that you do?"

"For work? At home?" Harry questioned. Logically he knew what Niall was asking, but he wanted the extra clarification just in case.

"Work," Niall said first, shrugging lightly, "hobbies, when you're at home — whatever you want to give me. I don't care. This is about you."

Harry raised an eyebrow at Niall. He wasn't expecting him to ask for all of that. He legitimately only thought Niall was asking about his work.

"Uh, well," Harry spoke, looking down at his hands where he'd begun to nervously crack his knuckles. "I work with people and numbers. I'm in charge of the accounts for a few billion dollar companies."

"You sound important," Niall teased, scribbling down something into the notebook Harry hadn't seen him sit down with or grab. "That sounds kind of boring, though, if I'm being honest."

"It can be," Harry said with a chuckle. "Most days I just sit there talking to clients over the phone or I'm stuck in meetings with them. Sometimes I just pawn it all off on my assistant because I don't feel like dealing with the social aspect of my job. I'd rather not deal with that part."

Niall watched Harry as he talked; his hands moving almost as much as his mouth. This surprised Niall because Harry didn't seem like the type of person to be very animated when speaking. It was the way he held himself when they first met — reserved, standoffish, and not very open to being bombarded with questions.

"I get that, man." Niall told him, studying the way Harry looked at him with a tilt to his head and green eyes wide. "I mean, sometimes I don't feel like talking to anyone and want to cancel all of my appointments, but people come to me for a reason and it would be bad practice to send them away. Would be nice to do for once."

"Have you ever done that?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.

"Nope," Niall said. "We're not here to talk about me, though. What else do you do?"

Harry stopped moving; he was frozen. Niall was trying to get into more personal territory now. He knew that eventually he would have to talk about himself on that level, but he wasn't prepared at all for it.

"I do things," Harry answered. "I have a daughter, so we do things together. I don't exactly know what you want me to tell you."

"What do you and your daughter do, Harry?" Niall pressed on. He'd get him to talk.

"Stuff. Normal father-daughter things," Harry replied.

Niall took note of Harry's behavior, jotting down in his notebook that asking private, personal questions was too much for the man. He added, as an afterthought, that Harry didn't seem like the person who ever got to talk about himself much. Perhaps, Niall thought, maybe Harry was stuck and struggling with who he was. It wasn't abnormal for a client to freeze up and answer in the most simplest of ways or not at all, but Harry was trying to avoid answering while still trying to answer at the same time. Consider Niall's interest piqued. He loved a challenge.

He continued to push Harry; throwing questions out whenever Harry said something that he could gain information from. Like before, Harry answered in short, choppy sentences — sometimes one word — and he never tried to elaborate. Everything was quick, to the point, this is how it is and nothing else.

The difference in Harry talking about his work and Harry talking about his personal life was very noticeable. Niall figured that, despite their introduction days prior, Harry really only knew work and was most comfortable talking about that. Niall couldn't wait to get Harry away from that; he so desperately wanted Harry to be comfortable talking about any topic.

"Harry," Niall's voice ran out in the quiet office. "Before we end things, I just want to let you know that this is your hour. I know that we're here to work on things for you, but ultimately you're the one that gets to decide how things play out."

"What?" Harry asked, leaning forward, elbows digging into his thighs. He was listening; all his attention focused on Niall.

"If you don't feel like talking, just say so. That's okay." Niall answered. "This is your time. If you want to nap, relax, read a book — you can do what you want to do in order to help make yourself feel comfortable. That's our first goal."

"Our first goal?" Harry squinted at him. "I didn't know there were goals."

"In order to get to the bottom of whatever is it that you're going through or dealing with, Harry, I need you to feel like you can trust me and, in order to do that, you need to be comfortable." Niall told him truthfully.

"Oh," Harry exhaled the breath he'd been holding. "That makes sense."

Niall scratched down another line in his notebook before looking back up to Harry. "Okay, well, that's about it for today. I am, however, going to give you something to do for me. I want you to think about something you wish to talk about in our next session. That'll be the only thing we talk about, though, so pick wisely."

"You're giving me homework?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I guess so," Niall laughed.

Harry found himself already trying to come up with something to talk about when he got to visit Niall again and he wasn't even out of the building yet. He made a mental checklist, adding things to it as the day progressed. Finally stopping when he fell asleep.

\- X -

Session 3 - Monday.

Harry was prepared.

At least, he thought he was.

The closer he got to the building housing Niall's office the more he started to reconsider the topic he decided that he wanted to talk about. Harry had, at first, wanted to go with something he knew that he could talk about for hours — work, music, clothes; things that were safe and wouldn't have him clamming up. However, he decided on something that was extremely personal. He was starting to regret that decision.

"Harry, how are you?" Niall asked when Harry opened his office door. Niall's receptionist informed Harry that he was the first client of the day, so he could walk on in. Harry didn't like being the first, but he figured that someone had to do it.

"I'm good. A bit sleepy, but good. You?" Harry answered, already trying to be more open.

"In the same boat, man." Niall said.

"We should sleep for the hour," Harry jokingly told him. Part of him was serious, but that was only because he was trying to avoid talking about his chosen topic.

Niall laughed, looking like he was considering the option. "As tempting as that is, I believe I gave you homework over the weekend."

Harry sighed, frowning slightly. He was really hoping that Niall would take him up the offer to just nap. He had told him that Harry could do whatever he wanted during his hour, but he guessed that this was more important. "You said its my hour, so... what if I want to sleep?"

"You can, if you want, but you're just putting off the inevitable that way. We'll just talk about it the next time," Niall answered. Again, like he had during previous visits, Niall was writing down things in his notebook about Harry and the way things were going. Harry was curious to know what it was that he was jotting down.

"Hey, uh... Niall, can I call you that?" Harry questioned, unsure of himself.

"Yeah. It is my name, after all." Niall said. "What's up?"

"I was just curious, but... uh, what are you writing down?" Harry asked him.

"In here?" Niall held up the notebook, a page flipped around to show clean lined paper. He hadn't written on that side yet, Harry noticed. "Notes, thoughts, questions I have, I draw things. Whatever comes to mind. Why?"

"Can I see it?"

"Maybe when we're done and you no longer need to see me anymore." Niall told him. Honestly, it would probably be a good thing to let Harry see his progress over the course of their time spent together. It would only go into a box with Harry's name on after everything was said and done anyways. "You work with me, show me progress, and at the end I'll give you this. Deal?"

Simple enough.

Harry nodded. "Okay. Deal."

"On that note, what did you want to talk about today?" Niall asked. He had his pen ready, holding it against the paper and waiting for Harry to shy away from said assignment.

"I... uh, well," Harry stammered, arching his back into a stretch and pushing himself back into the recliner. He pulled both legs up so that he was sitting crossed legged, his hands resting between the gap his thighs created. Harry looked down at his lap, hair falling into his face and shielding him from the curious gaze Niall was sending his way. "I want to talk about my husband."

Niall blinked. That was unexpected.

"Okay," Niall said. He watched as Harry attempted to make himself appear as small as he could. This was obviously a topic he was unsure about, but he'd brought it up and per the rules, they were going to talk about it — Harry's husband — as much as they could. "What about him, Harry?"

"He's amazing," Harry said softly. He looked up, eyes swimming with tears. "His name's Louis' and he's the love of my life."

Niall took notice of the sad smile playing on Harry's lips. He was worried because the expression that Harry wore didn't match the compliment he was giving his husband. This was something that he could definitely expand on. It would be his way into Harry's mind.

"How long have you two been together?" Niall asked, writing down questions and asking them as quickly as he could think of them. "How long have you been married? What does he do? Where is he now? Does he know you're seeing me?"

Harry looked startled. He wore the deer in headlights expression, completely taken aback by the amount of questions being hurled his way. He was sure he'd missed a few, but Harry still tried to gather himself enough to answer.

"We've been together since we were in our late teens, early twenties." Harry inhaled deeply, forcing down the lump in his throat. "Married most of that time. He's a teacher — a drama one, actually, and he's really fucking good at it. Sorry. Is cursing allowed?"

"Fuck yeah it is," Niall laughed. "No need to apologize. I find that if you're able to speak freely and how you normally do that you tend to be more comfortable. Goal one, remember."

Harry nodded. Goal one: get comfortable. He could do this.

"Louis teaches, like I said. He wanted to be an actor when we first met, but he always said that he wasn't cut out for the big leagues, so he worked in theaters around the area and then got hired on at River City High." Harry explained. He was proud of everything that Louis had accomplished with his career. Louis was one of the most loved teachers in the school, something that shocked the hell out of him when he first found out.

"What else can you tell me about him?" Niall asked, trying to get Harry away from safe things to talk about when speaking about his husband. He wanted to know about more than just what he did for work.

"He's witty, sarcastic, and just an all around great person." Harry complimented Louis, even though the latter wouldn't know that he was doing it.

"That's good. What else?"

"When you ask 'what else'... what do you mean?"

"Like, where's he at now? Is he okay with you coming here? How is it living with him?"

Harry refused to answer the first one. He told Niall that Louis' was perfectly fine with him seeing a therapist. The third question, well, Harry told Niall that he wasn't exactly ready to go that far. That little bit of information sent Niall's head through a loop. He came to the conclusion that there was clearly some kind of bad blood between them, and he was going to get down to the bottom of it.

\- X -

Session 4 - Wednesday.

"So, you're telling me that you met him when you were stoned?" Niall asked, his voice light as he tried to picture Harry stoned. It would probably still do him good to smoke, but trying to imagine him high was a trip for Niall. Harry didn't seem like the kind of person to ever partake in the finer things of life.

"I did, yeah." Harry responded. "We were all on a couch behind an abandon store. It was the place to hang out. Some of my friends turned out to be Louis' friends, but we'd never met before then. He always said it was fate that we both agreed to go that day. Louis' believed," Harry froze, pausing before correcting himself, "believes in things like fate, destiny, what have you."

Niall picked up on how Harry corrected the way he talked about his husband. He would do that frequently, change tenses. It opened up a new can of worms for Niall. He would later highlight that thought in his notebook, putting brightly colored exclamation points beside it as the topic of Louis seemed to be extremely important to Harry. Was he still in the picture? Had something happened to him? Niall wanted to know these things.

"How long did it take you guys to get together?" Niall asked out of the blue. They'd been quiet and enjoying each other's company for a good five minutes before Niall decided to speak up. Harry had been lost in thought.

"Uh..." Harry pondered, drumming his fingers on the arm of the recliner. "A few weeks, I think?"

"Did you two stay in contact after meeting?"

"We did, yeah. Louis always said he was smitten from the start, but I was clueless and it took a little longer for me." Harry glanced over at the bookshelf next to where Niall was sitting. "I got there, in the end, but yeah... I wasn't the brightest one there, for sure."

Niall couldn't help the laugh that escaped his throat. He could appreciate Harry's self deprecating humor. "Anything else you want to tell me?"

"It was fun, y'know? First getting together," Harry started, thinking back to when they were still a new item. "God, we were unbearable. We were always together. People tried to tell us that we were moving too fast, but like... when you find the one, nothing is too fast. It felt like it wasn't fast enough."

Harry remembered being told by his sister, Gemma, that he needed to slow things down with Louis at one point in the start of their relationship. She tried to explain to Harry that he was going to get burned out and that eventually Louis wouldn't be exciting anymore. While she'd been right, in the end, it had taken far longer than she said it would have. Harry thought that he'd never get tired of Louis, but since he convinced himself that he was tired of his husband, thus putting them in this situation, Harry had come to realize that it wasn't Louis that was the problem.

It was him. He had grown tired of being stuck in the same company, he was bored and he wanted something exciting, something new — something that wasn't what he was accustomed to. Harry found himself wanting excitement, wanting to do something extreme. It just never occurred to him that while he was at his lowest point, at his his most vulnerable, he'd allow someone to walk into his life and taken advantage of him. Granted, he could say that he took advantage of her as well.

Harry pulled away from Louis as they continued to talk. Niall told Harry that if circumstances had been different that he could see them being friends because they got along well and shared many common interests. Harry told him that maybe, just maybe they'd be able to be friends after all was said and done.

"Okay, Harry," Niall began, placing his notebook on the table in front of him. "I have another homework assignment for you."

"Again?" Harry groaned.

"Yeah, sorry." Niall apologized. "You might like this one, though. I feel like you're the type of person that likes to write and wouldn't mind doing this — I want you to get a journal. I don't care if you write in it before your next visit, but I want you to bring it in with you. Okay?"

"Okay, yeah. I can do that." Harry agreed easily. He'd been considering a journal for a while, but hadn't ever gotten one. What a better time than for therapy homework?

\- X -

Session 5 - Friday.

Harry wordlessly presented Niall with the journal he'd purchased. It was leather, black in color, and wrapped shut with a leather strip. Niall cocked an eyebrow as Harry sat down, holding the journal in one hand as he followed suit and sat on his couch. It appeared to him that it wasn't a day good for the younger man, but he'd try his best to get him to talk. That's what he was there for.

"Do you mind if I open it?" Niall asked him, running a hand along the journal. "I won't look at it if you don't want me to."

"It's fine," Harry said, short and to the point.

"Have you written in it?" Niall looked at him warily. Harry only nodded.

The first fifteen minutes of Harry's fifth session went by slowly as Niall read what he had written down. In it, Harry talked about his relationship with Louis and how he missed him with every single day that passed. Harry wrote about how he was trying to get better; trying to get to the bottom of his problems so that they could become one again. He wrote about Kendall. His writings talked about her like she was a fleeting memory, there but not actually.

Harry had written about how he'd been feeling prior to cheating on Louis. Every thought he'd ever had about the before cheating days was written down. Harry wrote about how he hated himself and how stale his life had grown. He wanted more. Harry admitted to almost quitting his job so that he could find a job doing what he loved instead of what he was told he should do in order to be a fully functional, competent adult. Harry didn't feel like one.

Harry talked about his daughter. He named her, said she was the light of his life and that he'd fallen in love with her the moment he laid eyes on her. He instantly knew that Elise was meant to be his, and he made that happen. She was everything he ever wanted in a child. She made them a family.

Niall read everything.

He was shocked that Harry had been so open with him. Niall honestly hadn't expected Harry to let him read anything because of how he reacted to certain things and questions, but he was glad that wasn't the case. He could finally start to help Harry move forward.

"Harry, do you mind if I ask about Kendall?" Niall asked him, shutting the journal and tightly tying a knot into the leather strip to ensure that it wouldn't randomly fall open.

"Not really." Harry said.

"You said you felt used by her. Why?"

"She was trying to move things along too quickly," Harry answered. "I didn't realize it until after I broke things off with her, but she was egging on my divorce and kept telling me all the things that we — she — would do once it was just us. I wish I'd realized it the first time she came onto me, but I didn't because she was someone new. Kendall, she was beautiful and just what I needed at the time. I think she knew that somehow."

"Harry, don't dwell on wishing that you'd realized it sooner because that's just going to keep you down. You realized it, you left her, and you're trying to make things right again." Niall told him. It was starting to make sense — the way Harry had been acting.

"If you don't mind," Niall said, "I'm curious to know how you felt while you were cheating on your husband."

Harry looked at him. Studied him.

Harry was trying to think of how to begin things.

"In the beginning I was excited. I hate admitting that, but I was." Harry offered up easily. He swallowed, leaning back in the recliner and looking up at the ceiling. "I was doing something that Louis had no idea about. I was sneaking around. I wasn't doing a good job at it because he caught on pretty quickly. Louis, though, he never told me that he knew. I'd come to find out that later, but that isn't something I want to talk about right now."

"Okay. It's good that you're talking about it, though." Niall told him, praising how far he'd come in such a short time.

"Eventually, I started to get mad." Harry said quietly. Niall looked at him curiously. "Louis' entire demeanor changed and I noticed. Of course, I did. He started to become distant, hostile at times, he wanted to argue. Or, at least, that's how I viewed him. I ended up angry over the entire ordeal. I was mad that Louis' hadn't caught on, but I was afraid that he had each time he tried to confront me."

Harry couldn't help the tears spilling over and running down his face. "The more Louis pushed, the worse I got. It was like I wasn't myself. Every time he brought up Elise, tried to talk about what we were doing — made that stupid fucking request. That stupid promise. God, why did I fall for that?"

"What request, Harry?" Niall was intrigued.

"Louis, he told me that he wanted me to play pretend — play fucking house like we're children or something — with him because, according to him, Elise was starting to notice things between us. He wanted us to have a fake relationship. I agreed to it because I didn't want to have to explain myself to a child, but that was the dumbest thing I could've done for myself."

"Dumbest?"

"Yeah," Harry exhaled. "I could've ended things with Louis if I hadn't agreed to his request. Maybe I could be passed this already."

"You don't mean that, Harry." Niall chided.

"How do you know?" Harry asked his therapist, annoyance clearly etched across his face and flooding his voice.

"I've heard the way you talk about Louis. You're still so in love with him," Niall started, pausing to gather his words. "You were at your lowest and weak, Kendall was there and the one you went with because you saw yourself in everything that had to do with Louis. You saw Louis as a person that was holding you back because you were unhappy, you were projecting yourself onto him and using that against him. You know what I do know for sure, Harry?"

"What's that?" Harry asked softly.

"You talk about him like he's the single most important thing on this Earth. You talk about Louis like you'd die without him. You're willing to do anything to make things right with him again, and yes, it might take some time, but I have faith in you. You'll right your wrong, Harry. Eventually, you will."

"if I get the chance," Harry whispered. Niall barely heard it. It was so soft that it could've gotten lost in the silence of the room, but Niall heard it and writes it down in his notebook. He circles the statement several times with a promise that he'd ask Harry about it later.

\- X -

Session 6 - Monday.

"Louis has cancer, Niall." Harry said as way of greeting his therapist.

Niall furrowed his brows, blinking and looking at Harry like he had three heads. "Come again?"

"I know you're curious about what I said last time," Harry started. "About getting the chance to fix things. Louis has cancer. He's in the hospital back home with his Mom. Last I heard he wasn't doing well and things weren't looking good. I don't know if I'll get the chance to fix things, Niall."

Niall watched as Harry broke down. Harry, the man that came into his office and wasn't willing to disclose any information, was finally lowering his defenses and letting Niall in. It wasn't the ideal situation, but it was happening nonetheless. Harry cried, head in his hands as he tried to calm himself down. Niall could hear the sharp intakes of air and the rough exhales; he could hear Harry mumbling to himself about something, but he couldn't make out what it was.

Niall lost count of how much time passed between the start of the session and Harry finally being able to calm down enough to talk again.

"'m sorry," Harry muttered sadly.

"Don't apologize, Harry. You needed that," Niall told him.

"I don't know what I'm doing," the younger man said, voice filled with sorrow and regret from his past choices.

"Nobody does, but you're trying."

"Is trying even enough?" Harry asked him. "I haven't even talked to Louis in weeks because I was a fucking coward and told him he was wrong and stupid for thinking that I needed help. He was right; here I am. Is it enough?"

"It's enough, Harry."

"Is it, though? I came into this wanting to fix things between us. I want him back, but I feel like I'm running out of time or I'm already too late. I don't know what I'm doing anymore or if there's even a point in this." 

Harry was in a ranting mood, so Niall let him talk.

"What if he doesn't want me back? What the fuck am I supposed to do then?" Harry asked the open room. "I just want to get him back. I want to start over. I want to fix this shit show I've created."

"Harry," Niall called out to him. "I have a serious question for you."

"What?" Harry looked up then, eyes locking on Niall's and praying that he wasn't going to ask something stupid.

"I've been thinking about this since our last session. Is it a good idea to get back with him?" Niall vocalized. "I think you should consider getting better for you before you even try to win him back."

Harry froze. That was eerily similar to something Louis said to him the last time they spoke.

"I want him back," Harry whispered, "but I don't know if he still wants me."

That, there, was the problem. Niall knew that he'd eventually get to the bottom of things. He'd been wondering about for a while. Harry was trying to become a better person and, while it was for a good reason, he felt like it was pointless because he didn't even know if his husband (ex husband?) would take him back.

"Harry, maybe you should focus on you." Niall suggests. "It's fine to want your husband back, to want to rekindle things, but if you're not at your best then what's the point? This might happen again and then what?"

Harry listened. 

Niall had a point.

\- X -

Session 7 - Wednesday.

"What's this, Harry?" Niall asked when Harry tossed the notebook he brought with him onto the table between them.

"The day Louis left me he left this behind," Harry began to explain, his voice straining against the feelings bubbling up in his chest. "He wrote me a letter. A long, drawn out one telling me that he knew about Kendall the entire time. He wrote about what he thinks about me, our situation, and the cancer that he's afraid will kill him. This was meant to be his goodbye."

"What makes you say that?"

"Louis wrote it," Harry laughed wetly. "He said he couldn't tell me goodbye to my face because he was afraid it would lead to another argument. He was right, it probably would have. Louis said it was easier than talking to me face to face."

"Kind of cowardice, yeah?"

"Not really. I wouldn't want to talk to me either."

Niall wanted to laugh, but he couldn't. There was a time and place for Harry's kind of humor.

"Write him back." Niall said, throwing his idea out there like it made the most sense. "Write Louis a letter and explain yourself in it. I think it could help you. Let him know how you feel. Doing things in an unconventional way is sometimes the best way to approach things."

Harry agreed.

They continued to talk. Niall offered up his thoughts, explaining to Harry that he'd come a long way from their first session. Harry made another three appointments.

He could do this. For himself, first and foremost.

He would do this. For Louis and the hope that he would take him back.

Harry would be okay. They would be okay.

He hoped.


End file.
